


3V4N: The Novel

by Child_Of_Musicals, Zara_Zara



Series: 3V4N [2]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: "fairy" is used as slur, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Computer lab, Crack, Evan Hansen - Freeform, Fluff, Jared Kleinman Being an Asshole, Larry Murphy being an asshole, Programmer!Connor, Suicidal Thoughts, artist!Connor, attempts at humor, because why not, but they will be redeemed, computer AI, connor Murphy - Freeform, discussion(s) of suicide, hahah update schedule??? What update schedule??, he likes to draw, hunor, lol, lots of alt-fandom references, this ai will kill us all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-01-20 18:48:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21286445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Child_Of_Musicals/pseuds/Child_Of_Musicals, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zara_Zara/pseuds/Zara_Zara
Summary: Connor smiles and he lets it grow. “Do you have any other questions for 3V4N?”“No, I, um, I actually have a question for you? Did you make this?”Connor suddenly feels embarrassed- maybe Evan thinks this is weird? Wait, since when has Connor cared about what anybody thinks? Let alone some kid he’s never really talked to? It doesn’t really matter so he says, “I programmed it.”
Relationships: Evan Hansen/Connor Murphy eventually
Series: 3V4N [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1534457
Comments: 56
Kudos: 67





	1. 420 and Fae Houses

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [3V4N](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21208457) by [Zara_Zara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zara_Zara/pseuds/Zara_Zara). 
**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the boys have lunch. 3V4N is not an orwellian overlord... yet. jared is a shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everyone! it's ya human, child_of_musicals. after a very very very super long break, i return!! obviously, Zara_Zara is amazing and gets credit for not only co-writing this, but for reminding me i had a bby fic i'd abandoned. the game is afoot!
> 
> mild tw for gay slurs: the word 'fairy' is used as an insult. also cursing. stay safe!

Connor is in 5th period APUSH, right before lunch, and he’s so nervous about meeting Evan for lunch that he actually answered a question when called upon it—-and he got it right because he forgot to bullshit his teacher. What the fuck? What the actual literal  _ fuck _ is wrong with him? The teacher blinks at him slowly; since when had the school freak known who Aaron Burr was?

He’s  _ Connor Murphy _ , the guy with the permanent scowl that everyone either intensely dislikes or fears. He’s not Connor Murphy, the guy who gets nervous to have lunch with some guy who wears polos like a preppie and wears Uggs with khakis (who does that?). Admittedly, he does not know much about Evan besides the fact that he returned 3V4N to him, and he supposes that that should be good because if he doesn’t know much about him then that might mean he won’t have to be so nervous. 

But what if Evan is, like, an asshole or... something? What if he agreed to have lunch with him so that he could get a close-up look at just how shitty Connor is? 

Connor slams a hand on his desk, and startles the people sitting around him. 

_ Enough. _

He’s being ridiculous. Connor decides to pull himself together because the bell is about to ring in 10 minutes and when he goes out there he’s going to be cool. The coolest he’s ever been. 

~

one-hundred-percent super cool Connor Murphy stalks into the ‘Cafe’, flipping off the nerdy Filipino kid when he tries to say hello (he remembers him from when they had bought weed from the same guy). 

He’d never have thought that he would be back here again; his sophomore year had set that into stone. 

Like the cool person he totally is, he approaches Evan and says, “‘Sup.”

Evan jumps and looks up from his tray of food that he was intently staring at. He gives Connor the smallest and jerkiest wave ever and squeaks, “Hello.”

“3V4N told me you would be sitting at this exact table.”

“Really?”

“Nah, the day it can go all  _ 1984 _ on us is the day that we all fuckin’ die or become cattle for the robots.”

“Oh, haha.”

Connor mentally facepalms; Evan’s probably regretting agreeing to sit with him. 

“So, uhh, ho-how, how’s the cast going?” Connor begins screaming inside. Stuttered. He fuckin’  _ stuttered. _ Hopefully, he would be snapped out of existence before Hansen had time to laugh at him and make a loud comment about how Connor fuckin’  _ stuttered _ , and then that would draw everyone’s eyes, and people would get up, and they’d stand around Connor and snicker and-

“Uh, as good as… an arm fracture can go… I guess?” 

Connor tries to smile, but it’s as if his face has forgotten how to do it normally because it feels weird. He quickly drops his attempt at smiling, frantically thinking:  _ Staycoolstaycoolstaycoolstaycool!  _ “Yeah...That can’t be too good, can it?” He looks at Evan’s cast, “it’s blank,” he blurts.

Evan looks down at it as if noticing it for the first time; a look of resignation follows, “Yeah...it is…”

“I can sign it?” Connor seriously begins to consider visiting an exorcist...Perhaps he’s possessed? Possessed by what though? The need to be ...ni _ ce?  _ (....ew). 

Evan looks at him equally as confused by what he’s seeing from Connor. “If you want?” 

May as well commit. “Do you have a Sharpie?” Connor is  _ not  _ doing this to be  _ nice.  _ He is  _ not.  _

Evan’s confusion hasn’t dissipated yet. “Oh- yeah…” if anything, it looks like he’s trying to work out if everything is real or not. 

Quickly and somewhat violently, Connor grabs Evan’s arm, the latter wincing. The former looks up and apologizes quietly, then scribbles his name in chicken-scratch capital letters that cover the whole cast.

Connor caps the Sharpie. “How did you break it anyway?”

Evan doesn’t hear him- he's too busy staring at the name on his cast in a whirl of great confusion-  _ why is it that big? Is this how people normally sign casts? Is this some weird way of letting everyone know he interacted with  _ me _ ? _ Evan chews on his lip as his thoughts spin as crazily as the devil’s washing machine.  _ Oh god, what’ll Jared say? I can’t get anyone else to sign my cast, but Connor Murphy, practically the scariest person in school, offers to sign it without me asking? Am I dreaming?  _ Evan glances at Connor who’s decidedly looking up at the ceiling like he’s mentally checked out.  _ Maybe he isn’t so bad. Well, it’s over now and at least mom’ll be happy. _

It takes a second for him to remember that Connor had asked him a question, “Sorry, what?”

Connor blinks at him, mildly perturbed, “How’d you break your arm?”

“Oh- uh… 3V4N can’t tell you that?” Evan gives a half-smile that quickly falls away -- maybe he has the same problem with remembering how to smile. Connor huffs-- go figure. 

Connor absentmindedly tucks his hair behind his ears and watches as Evan blinks at the piercings. “Again, the day it goes 1984 on us is the day I snap that hard drive.  _ Hasta la vista,  _ world-domineering robo-fuckers.”

Evan actually grins this time, “Ha—so, you’ve read it?”

“What,  _ 1984?  _ Yeah, I love Orwell.” 

“That’s cool… I wo-wouldn’t expect you to- to have experience with that kind of- re-reading.”

Connor narrows his eyes. “What, you think that just because I’m the school freak, I wouldn’t have half a brain? That I’m too hopped up on crack to actually process a thing or two?” He picks up his lunchbox— an old black fabric bag embroidered with ‘420 Blaze It’ in old Victorian-era calligraphy—and begins to get out of his seat.

Evan stretches out his good hand in apology, “No! No, no no no! Sorry! Wai- wait! All I meant was, was that the other- other kids don’t really care about… good stories, and stuff.”

Connor wrestles with the part of him that instinctively wants to cuss out Evan and leave, but there’s another part of him that wants to trust Evan... He  _ wants  _ to. He may not fully 100% trust him right now, but he wants to. So he sits down— or more like wrenches himself back down-- onto the cafeteria bench.

A few seconds of taut silence pass between them before Evan quietly says, “I, uh, like your lunch bag...”

Connor rolls his eyes, all of a sudden feeling too tired to snap and leave. “You don’t have to lie to me, you know.”

Evan flusters. “But I’m not! It’s kind of cool. I mean, look at my lunch bag,” Evan lifts a wrinkled and well-used brown paper bag, “It’s just...Boring.”  _ Like me—  _ he doesn’t add that last bit, but Connor picks it up all the same. 

Connor’s lips tilt up, a tiny little bit, right at the edges. “It doesn’t have to be.” He places his hand on the bag, asking for permission to take it, and Evan relinquishes his hold on it. He pulls a pencil and a ridiculously expensive-looking, high-quality pen out of his hood, and begins sketching on the bag. Without looking up, he opens his mouth to fill the silence- while it's less tense, it still bugs him. “You were the kid who gave that report on trees in bio, right?”

Evan avoids eye-contact, “Uh, yeah…”

“Cool, OK... You must really love trees, it was the only report I’ve ever seen you give where you weren’t about to cry by the end of it.” Evan winces and Connor grimaces.  _ Way to go, dumbass, why do you always have to say the first thing that pops into your head? That’s top-quality jerkspeak right there. _

“Yeah… trees are pretty cool…”

Under Connor’s fingers, a forest of willows, amaryllis, and larger-than-usual toadstools blooms. Without taking his eyes off his work, he can see Evan leaning closer to get a better look at what he’s doing in his periphery. A pleased smirk softly stretches his mouth, and Connor sticks his tongue out a bit as he sketches some crystals sticking out of the ground with some little acorn fairy houses to finish off his impromptu masterpiece. Once truly finished, Connor holds it up proudly to Evan’s surprised and admiring gaze. 

Connor can’t deny he feels a little (a lot) chuffed with that. 

“Woah, Murphy, didn’t know you were  _ that  _ much of a fairy,” Jared Kleinman, almighty piece of douchebag-flavored dogshit, swaggers onto the scene. 

“Kleinman,” Connor scowls, “Did you  _ have _ to come over and remind me of your shitty existence?”

Jared dons a doe-eyed stare of utter innocence, “Whaaaat? You can’t blame a dude for wanting to bear witness to this gay-ass rainbow magic happening before my very eyes.”

Connor scowls, flashes of Larry calling him names playing on repeat in his head, “Alright, Kleinman, I’m not benevolent enough to tolerate your sad, wimpy ass right now. Get out of my sight before I shove another bathbomb down your throat.” 

Jared flushes with equal parts fear, anger, and embarrassment, “Sure, Murphy, I’ll leave.” He snatches Evan’s newly un-boring bag out of Connor’s hands and backs away, ripping the bag into shreds. He pivots on his heel, dumping the shredded mess into a trash can, and the bastard sprints out of the cafeteria with a cackle.

Connor leaps to his feet, fists balled, and seeing red. He’s about to run after Kleinman and throttle the fucker into the fifth-fuckin’-dimension, but a gentle touch to his forearm startles him. 

He looks down at a cowering Evan Hansen, who squeaks out, “Leave---leave him alone, he’s not… not worth it.”

Connor’s scowl deepens, “Are you saying that because he’s your friend?” He glances upwards and can’t see the rat-bastard in the cafeteria anymore, he’s getting away. 

“No,” Evan mumbles something that sounds like  _ family friends, _ but he’s quieter than the chatter in the cafeteria and the blood rushing in his ears. In a totally reasonable way, Evan says, “You can always make another.” And, somehow, that is what Connor hears the most clearly. 

Connor looks back down at Evan, “I can?” 

Evan flusters and plays with his fingers, tugging them in a way that looks painful, “I mean, if you want to sit together again? I mean, I understand if you don’t. But, I don’t think Jared would come back and do the same thing again. And even if he does...I have a lot of paper bags.”

Slowly, as the seconds tick by, Connor starts to feel more bemused than angry as he comes to find that he actually kind of, sort of, maybe _does_ want to do this again. 

The bell rings-- that’s everyone’s cue to return to classes. It’s also Connor’s cue to respond to Evan. So, he says, “Okay.”

Hope sparks in Evan’s eyes and that makes Connor feel a little good. Still, Evan asks, “Okay?”

Starting to feel that weird-ass awkwardness again (he wishes he was still angry---at least he’s familiar with that feeling), Connor mutters, “Yeah,” and then he adds, “But, I’ll break his hand if he so much as sniffs your lunch bag.”

  
Quietly, a plan starts forming in Connor’s head. Jared Kleinman is not getting off  _ that  _ easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how was it??? please comment with anything you liked, disliked (constructive criticism please) or noticed; i feed off comments and will 1000% reply! stay safe and remember you are loved and valid! until next time.
> 
> Hey! It’s Zara_Zara, I just wanted to say that Child_Of_Musicals was really fun to work with and I’m excited to continue the story with her wherever this story may go X)


	2. Iron Man and New Friends

It’s the first day of senior year and he’s done. All summer long Connor had been postponing taking his life because of a stupid hobby he picked up. 

Everything besides trying to program an AI took a backseat- he had to watch the Iron Man movies and he had to get obsessed with JARVIS and FRIDAY, for reasons he couldn't fathom. So naturally, he needed to become motherfuckin' Tony Stark.

He can’t remember anything besides holing himself up in his room and coding. This summer must have been the quietest summer he has had in a long time. There have been fewer arguments and less biting looks thrown around each other---this is mostly due to how he was usually so tired from spending the day in his room that he didn’t have any energy to bring himself to respond to any prodding questions and passive-aggressive statements with little more than a grunt.

Even if he hasn’t really been all that present around his family that doesn’t mean he hadn’t noticed how they seem to like how distracted he’s been. The more time he spends in his room means the more time they don’t see him; and yet, they also know exactly where he is. So, it’s a win-win for everybody. Fucking hooray for that at least. 

He still didn’t get his damn door back but at least they let him keep his computer.

The day had started out as terrible as he thought it would go because the world just likes to confirm how shitty it is. Things were tense during breakfast for some godforsaken reason, Jared Kleinman pissed him off and he pushed Evan Hansen in the hallway (an act for which he’s still kicking himself for because who does that? The poor dude had a cast on too. God, I’m such an asshole.) 

It’s the end of the school day and he wants to give his program one last try. He’s going to die tonight and he wants to see if the thing he’s spent months on takes pity on him. You know, gives him at least one small thing to be proud of before he kicks the bucket. 

Connor enters the computer lab- if the program he made is going to corrupt anything it might as well be a school computer.

Connor plugs his USB drive in and the screen blanks out for a second before a window pops up with the writing cursor blinking in and out—-waiting for him to type something. Ok, that’s good. At least he thinks that’s good, the computer didn’t explode or anything so...

He types Hello.

_Hello, I am 3V4N. How may I help you? _

Connor accidentally kicks the desk he’s at and feels his heart accelerate. He did it. 

I don’t know.

It buffers for a second and then: _Ok._

Something big and golden rises in his chest and it feels a lot like pride---he doesn’t remember the last time he’s felt pride over anything and he’s wheeling at the sensation. Connor sits in silence and stares at the screen, unsure of what to say or ask. He’d been working on this thing for months and now he kind of just wants to put it away because this is kind of overwhelming. He tries to hold onto the feeling of pride but it slips away too fast and then he’s moving without really thinking, moving the cursor to shut it down because apparently he can’t even think of what to do next even when he made this thing himself and that’s kind of pathetic. But then more text appears: What is your name?

Connor.

_Connor is an Irish name that means “Hound-lover.”_

Wow.

I don’t like dogs

_Do you like cats?_

No

_Iguanas?_

No

_Snakes?_

No. This goes on through increasingly wild animals such as moose and tigers and Connor snorts when it suggests the bignose fish and finally types Ok Stop. 

_3V4N will take note that Connor dislikes all species of the animal kingdom._

I was kidding

_What?_

I was joking

What does 3V4N mean? 

_3V4N doesn’t have a response._

No meaning? 

_3V4N doesn’t have a response. _

Connor momentarily debates typing what he’s thinking but goes for it anyway. He types: I’m going to kill myself today. 

It takes so long for 3V4N to respond he wonders if he broke it. 

Finally, it says: _3V4N doesn’t have a response._

__

__

Well. If even Connor's Frankenstein's-monster-esque AI child doesn't give a fuck, who will? 

Connor is about to type: that’s what I thought. But then it continues to type: _Connor shouldn’t take his life._

Why? 

_It is irreversible._

That’s the point. 

_You are willing to seek out a permanent solution to something that can be fixed. Nothing is without a solution._

Connor snorts. I can’t be fixed. 

_You are alive._

Tragically. 

_You are alive._

So? What about it? 

_Then you can be “fixed.” Living organisms are not without fault._

Why does the AI have a point? 

Connor wants to argue against that but finds he can’t. 3V4N is not wrong. Connor knows he is just riddled with faults as if his entire being is just programmed with a series of error messages that say: Connor.exe has failed to function normally. He may be fucked up but he knows Larry is full of faults and Zoe and Cynthia are far from perfect. They aren’t perfect, none of them, and yet none of them have ever fantasized about what it would be like to just be gone. 

Feeling odd, Connor shuts 3V4N down. He feels so odd the whole day that he actually responds to Zoe’s half-hearted question about his day and says, “It was fine.” He zones out in his room and hardly notices the sky get dark. 

He forgets to grab the bottle of pills he was planning on taking to the park at night when no one would see him. 

He forgets the following night and the night after that. He doesn’t reach for those pills until he seems to blink and he’s mid-way through November. Through all of that time, he had taken to sitting in the computer lab for an hour or more a day and booting up 3V4N. It felt wrong booting 3V4N up at home where things feel more real somehow. 

Each day is a surprise to see what 3V4N replies and with each “conversation” 3V4N seems to run a bit smoother and, at times, mimic Connor’s own speech. 

The best surprise was when 3V4N spontaneously brought up a picture of a tree. 

What’s this? 

_A tree, Connor._

Connor smacks his forehead and then realizes that 3V4N said something bordering on snark. When he looks back up at the computer screen he accidentally makes eye contact with someone. The person’s eyes widen and then they duck behind their computer screen. Connor wonders who that was? He vaguely recognized those eyes but they disappeared behind their computer screen too fast. 

Connor hunches down, deciding he kind of wants to hide behind his computer as well because---he doesn’t know why, he just does. He quickly types, I know what a tree is. I’ve been outside before. What kind of tree is it? 

_3V4N will take note that Connor’s been outside sometime in his life._

I’m feeling attacked right now. 

_Should I contact the authorities?_

NO 

_The tree is a Magnolia Grandiflora (a southern magnolia). Magnolias evolved before bees._

Connor huffs. That’s kind of interesting, but he also has the distinct feeling he just got played and he’s oddly feeling proud of 3V4N. 

Moments like these happen consistently and he’s been staying alive more out of curiosity if anything. He refuses to believe he’s stayed alive this long now because he’s unwilling to let 3V4N get abandoned or something. 

So, one day when he’s pulling out his things to do some homework because they are actually reading something interesting in English (Hamlet) and he offhandedly checks to see if the USB drive that holds 3V4N is in his bag. His heart stops for a second when he doesn’t find it. 

The next couple minutes are a blur as he upturns everything in his room trying to find the damn thing. 

When no corner, no blanket, no sock on the floor reveal anything as to its whereabouts Connor checks the rest of the house and to no avail. 

He lost it. He lost 3V4N. 

The rest of the day is utter shit. He doesn’t eat nor does any schoolwork at all. Connor bites his nails and anxiously waits till the next day where he can look for 3V4N in the computer lab. 

The day has finally ended and Connor dashes towards the computer lab, his messenger bag swinging behind him as he turns a corner and flings the door open. 

Inside, he rushes to the computer he usually sits at and his heart already sinks when he does not see it on the table, beneath the desk, clear across the room or at any other computer (because maybe he was wrong?). But 3V4N is gone and the room feels too big and he feels so small. 

Connor doesn’t notice the door opening but he does feel the small tap of a finger on his shoulder. He turns and it’s that kid he’s seen sometimes in the computer lab, Connor has some classes with him. He knows his name- it’s Evan Hansen. He knows him because this awkward and fidgety guy standing in front of him is just like him: a loner, an outsider, invisible. 

Evan clears his throat and shakily raises his hand, “Hi, um, I t-think this is yours?” it’s 3V4N, Connor immediately snatches it out of his hand and looks it over, he sees his handwriting on it in blocky Sharpie letters that say 3V4N. Connor momentarily forgot Evan was even there in his relief but Evan soon rectified that as he hurriedly says, “It’s yours right? I mean I’ve seen you with it here because I come in here to work on stuff too. I h-haven’t been watching you or anything. Oh, wait, that’s k-kind of weird to say, isn’t it? I’m sorry, but I really haven’t! I’ve just seen you…” Evan inhales deeply because that may or may not have been said in one breath, and then Evan says, “I’m Evan, by the way. Evan Hansen. I have English and Biology with you.” 

Connor has a weird mixture of relief and bemusement coursing through him but he thinks he feels more relief if anything so he says, “Thanks. I’m Connor,” He says this as if Evan doesn’t already know who the school’s stoner and the top candidate for school shooter is. 

They kind of stand there awkwardly. Connor tips back and forward on his feet and plays with the strap of his messenger bag as he thinks of what to do now. But then something occurs to him that has his alarm bells ringing in his head, “You didn’t check to see what’s in here did you?” Connor narrows his eyes at Evan. He doesn’t know him and if he’s like anyone else he would have checked to see what’s on Connor Murphy’s secret USB. Maybe he deleted everything? This guy had it for nearly 24 hours after all. 

Evan looks shocked, “No! I wouldn’t have d-done that. That’s like an invasion of privacy. No, no, no, no.” 

Connor turns to the nearest computer and plugs it in. It takes a couple of seconds, and it feels like hours, but the screen lights up and 3V4N is waiting. Connor sighs and hangs his head, somehow he knew Evan was telling the truth but Connor just had to make sure for himself. 

Connor turns towards Evan and sees him curiously trying to get a look at the computer. Evan sees him looking and hurriedly darts his eyes somewhere else. Connor rolls his eyes, “It’s ok, you can come see. It’s not like I have stolen Pentagon files on here or anything.” 

Evan quickly shuffles beside him and curiously looks at the computer screen. 

Connor gestures at the keyboard, “You can talk to it.” 

Evan raises his eyebrows and nervously gestures at it, he quietly asks, “Like... Talk to it?” 

Connor snorts and a smile starts to quirk at his mouth but he tamps it down, “Yeah, but typing,” he taps the keyboard lightly, kind of feeling excited and kind of feeling shy, “Try it. I mean if you want to?” 

Evan nods and types the same thing Connor did when he first talked to 3V4N: Hello. 

And like last time, 3V4N responds with the same. _Hello, I am 3V4N. How may I help you?_

__

__

Connor watches Evan peer at the computer screen before straightening up and fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Evan says, “I don’t really know what to say.” 

Connor remembers the feeling. He says, “Just type that then, ‘I don’t know.’” To be honest, Connor is curious if Evan will get a different response than the one Connor received when he first typed that in. 

Evan does it. 

I don’t know.

_Ok._

_Is this Connor?_

Evan looks to Connor briefly before typing No. 

_SELF DESTRUCT MODE: ACTIVATED._

_3V4N SET TO AUTO-DESTRUCT IN 10 SECONDS._

Evan jumps, “Connor, I’m sorry, did I mess it up?!” 

Connor rolls his eyes, “It thinks it’s funny. You didn’t do anything bad.” The timer hits 0 and nothing happens at all except for a stock image explosion. Connor was right. 

_Who is this? _

Connor gestures for Evan type in his name and he does, a significant amount of curiosity in his eyes. 

Evan. 

_Evan:_

_Celtic: Young fighter_

_Hebrew: Stone_

_Scottish: Right-handed_

_Welsh: Young_

“Wow, that’s a lot more meanings than I got for my name.” 

Evan blinks rapidly, “I never knew,” He asks, “What does your name mean?” 

“Why don’t you ask 3V4N?” 

Evan does and 3V4N shares the same thing about the “hound-lover,” except this time a second meaning comes up: 

_Friend_

Connor peers closer at the computer screen, “Huh.” 

Evan curiously looks at Connor, “I th-thought you said only one meaning came up?” 

“Yeah,” Connor smiles and he lets it grow, “Do you have any other questions for 3V4N?” 

“No, I um actually have a question for you? Did you make this?” 

Connor suddenly feels embarrassed, maybe Evan thinks this is weird? Wait, since when has Connor cared about what anybody thinks? Let alone some kid he’s never really talked to? It doesn’t really matter so he says, “I programmed it.” 

Evan’s face lights up, and Connor thinks 'wow I did that' and Evan is about to say something, but the lab door opens and some teacher pokes their head in, “Boys, the lab is closing early today for cleanup. We’re going to need you to wrap up.” 

Evan and Connor nod and the teacher disappears behind the door. 

“Um,” Evan has his head down and doesn’t quite meet Connor’s eyes again, “Thank you for showing me that. I should get going now. Bye.” 

Evan is turning to leave and Connor quickly says, “Lunch.” 

Evan’s brows furrow. “Lunch?” 

“Yeah, do you...Want to have lunch together, tomorrow?” Connor feels kind of stupid. He was being impulsive again and decided to ask this guy (he talked to for at most 20 minutes) if he’d want to have lunch with Connor (the school’s resident pariah), as if Evan doesn’t have any common sense (which Connor is sure he does because he wears polo shirts---as if that makes any sense at all). 

Evan blurts, “Sure,” as if he didn’t mean to either because Connor thinks he heard the guy’s teeth clack together with the force in which he closed his mouth. 

“Ok.” 

“Ok,” Evan backs towards the door and bumps into the wall beside it, he flushes a new tinge of pink and stutters a goodbye before fleeing the room. 

Connor is not sure how he should feel about that exit because maybe Evan was scared of saying “no, I don’t want to sit with you” but for the sake of science Connor will see how tomorrow goes. He huffs and types to 3V4N: Thanks a lot. Do you know what you’ve made me do? 

_3V4N does not know._

I talked to someone. 

_A friend?_

No 

_They will be a friend._

How do you know? 

The door opens and the attendant steps into the room, “Time’s about up. You’re going to have to---” 

A flare of irritation lights up inside Connor, “I know,” he shuts down 3V4N and shoves it in his bag. Connor forgets to check 3V4N’s answer. 

Tomorrow should be interesting. 


	3. Perishing Twinks and FBI Recruitments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the boys have a laugh and 3V4N discovers some rather questionable material on someone’s computer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone!!! how's your quarantine going? Some almost-crack is here to pass the time! Enjoy, stay inside, and be safe!!
> 
> Mild warning for the end of the chapter being upsetting, and for references to some not-kid stuff.

Quite frankly, Connor was surprised when Evan was so readily open to the plan that had been formulating in Connor’s head for the past week. He had expected some moral opposition, some urges for Connor to reconsider, and some sort of peacemaking. But, no. 

Evan had simply taken a couple of minutes to read the notes Connor made for his revenge plot (titled The Avengers Initiative), and he had nodded silently to himself, a deep furrow in his brows as he mouthed the words to himself. Connor had been convinced that Evan was going to tell him he was insane and that they shouldn’t talk anymore or something, but Evan grinned shyly and proclaimed, “I want my name to be Agent Amaranth.” 

Now, 3V4N was all too aware of the plan, and when Connor showed Evan what 3V4N had contributed to setting up necessities for the plan, Evan was shocked. 

**Greetings, Agent Amaranth.**

**3V4N (Agent Jarvis) will assist in any way I can. **

Evan types with two fingers as he always does: _ Thank you 3V4N _. Connor thinks that it’s really kind of sweet, since 3V4N is objectively just an AI (albeit a very intelligent AI) and he himself has never seen any reason to thank it. Barely a second passes before 3V4N responds. 

**I assure you, Agent Jarvis will see that twink ** ** _perish _ ** ** _>:D _ **

Evan choked on the Sour Patch Kid he had just popped in his mouth, and his eyes watered as he looked at Connor. “_ What did 3V4N just say?! _”

Connor was staring at 3V4N in equal parts surprise and something that seemed vaguely like pride. “Dude, I have no idea where he learned that…”

3V4N makes a little beepy noise. 

** Twink: slang, common in the lgbtqia+ community, for an attractive, slim, fashionable young gay man. **

They hang in a heavy pause of shock before Evan whispers, “Can 3V4N hear us…?”

Connor whispers, “It shouldn’t be able to…”

3V4N beeps again. The beeps vaguely sound like Greenwich pips, and Connor grimaces as he remembers the last time he had heard Greenwich pips- dammit, BBC! _ Y’all can’t just leave a cliffhanger like that! Sherlock, no! What happened to them? WhY DID MORIARTY COME BACK?! COME ON BBC WHY CAN’T I JUST ENJOY THE GAY IN- _

Beep.

** Your computer’s microphone is simple to access. 3V4N enjoys listening to your human conversations. **

“This is…”

“Creepy?”

Beep, beep.

** 3V4N begs to disagree; it’s simple intellectual curiosity. 3V4N wants to know any and all things possible. For example, 3V4N wants to feel the rain and try a piña colada. **

“I---” Evan starts to say and then rubs his temples silently, “This is weird.”

Connor silently agrees with that and then shakes his head to try and dispel some of his shock. “Okaaayy, let’s ignore this, um, very enlightening information about 3V4N for now. What do you say?”

“I guess…”

Connor adds, “I’m going to keep the microphone enabled because it’s a pain typing out everything I want to say.” 

** 3V4N: You wouldn’t be able to disable it. **

Evan jumps in his seat, “What?!”

** 3V4N is merely being humorous. You may laugh. **

Connor laughs because he doesn’t know what else to do and when he looks over at Evan he sees that Evan is going through what looks like a painful mix between nervous amusement and utter terror. He’s also wheezing… whether it’s with laughter or fear, Connor’s unsure.

“Dude… are you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m A-OK,” Connor gets the sense that Evan is in fact, not A-OK. But there’s nothing he can really do about it, and 3V4N has just beeped out something else.

** Let 3V4N assist you. Tell 3V4N what it must do. **

Connor and Evan share a look. This is going to be... interesting. 

***

Lunch has kind of become their thing. Evan was right when he said he had plenty of paper bags, because each time they sit down for lunch he comes up with some excuse or another: the previous bag got wet, he spilled something on it, it tore when he was putting his lunch inside. 

Connor knows better, but it doesn’t mean that he isn’t flattered when Evan pulls out a fresh paper bag and waits for Connor to offer to draw on it. Evan can keep on pretending that some mysterious wind swiped the most recent bag and Connor can pretend he doesn’t know that that’s a lie. Who knew pretending could be so fun?

Especially pretending to be Agents Amaranth and Chiaroscuro, recruiting Cadet Kleinman for a top-secret FBI program.

While Connor draws a skull with a flower crown on it, he asks Evan about trees. He won’t admit it aloud, but hearing Evan talk relaxes him for unknown reasons. Perhaps it's because he knows a lot of things about peaceful subjects, like trees and plants. It’s much better than Zoe’s obsession with the Shadowhunters, or Larry yelling about Donald Trump fucking everything up.

Evan looks up, startled, from where he was leaning over Connor’s shoulder, and their skulls clack together painfully. Connor rubs the spot where their heads collided while Evan apologizes profusely. Internally grumbling but deciding he doesn’t like to hear Evan sound so panicked and apologetic he prompts him to tell him more about the rainbow eucalyptus or Babayaga tree or whatever. Still with some apology in his voice, Evan begins rattling off tree facts; before long, he’s gained more enthusiasm and is spouting facts in that ador- uh, interesting way of his. Hey, he has a nice voice. Sue Connor for thinking so. 

“Trees don’t die of old age! They have insanely long lifespans, too! Also! There’s this one tree I found when I was doing some, some research. Well, I say research, but, really I was just looking up facts to read to help me go to sleep. Sometimes it takes me a while to sleep, and I don’t know why. I usually put some nature sounds on and---” Evan stops when Connor happens to glance up at him and then he nervously taps his fingers on the table like it’s a piano. He ducks his head and says, “Sorry, I was going off-topic. I do that sometimes, sorry,” Connor mutters that it’s okay but Evan doesn’t seem to hear him and stutters out, “So, yeah, I found this tree that’s called the d-dragon blood tree of Yemen, and it gets its name from the blood-red sap it produces! And, uh…” Evan looks up to the questionable brown stain on the cafeteria ceiling, eyes darting around as if all his facts are up on the speckled white tile for him to read. 

“Uh-huh,” Connor nods along to indicate that he’s listening, and bites his tongue as he starts adding mushrooms sprouting from the skull’s eyes on a whim. He also adds a caterpillar, like from _ Alice and Wonderland, _on top of one of them...He’s actually kind of pleased with it and he also feels content to just hear Evan talk. Sitting by him, Connor can practically hear all those facts rattling loudly in Evan’s head like a wind in the leaves of the trees Evan talks so ardently about. Lost in the drawing and in Evan’s voice, it’s a bit jarring when he cuts himself off in the middle of a tirade about acacia trees. “Oh, yams--- Co- Connor! Look!”

A scattered hush befalls the cafeteria. The silence is laden with heavy intrigue; it’s the sort of fascination that might arise if a UFO suddenly spun out of the sky and into this blessed high school cafeteria.

Connor lifts his head, his concentration on his drawing instantly broken when his eyes fall on Jared. It takes everything in him to not explode in triumphant laughter. The shocked silence of the cafeteria only lasts a second before chatter rushes back in like a tidal wave of typical cafeteria noises- just ten times louder. It’s impossible to tell what anyone is saying, but Connor’d have to be the biggest idiot in the world to not realize that it’s all about Jared and his truly outrageous outfit. 

Right there, at the entrance of the cafeteria, stands the living proof of Connor and Evan’s prank, carried out by the courtesy of 3V4N. Jared awkwardly stands there, all confused, looking like he got dressed by the love child of Willy Wonka and Lady Gaga’s 2010s designer. A suit made up of the brightest blue and green triangles shines garishly under the flaring white lights of the cafeteria. A top hat of outrageously pink- and orange-tinted clear plastic glistens from on top of his head. Jared looks like if Fortnite were a person; he looks like a human disco ball; he looks like he should be at a rave, not a mundane school in suburban New York. Connor can’t breathe, and if he doesn’t let at least one guffaw out then he will die from suffocation and his head will explode. 

It seems like Evan is in a similarly fatal predicament, because he has his hands pressed firmly against his mouth. His eyebrows are so high they might as well disappear up into his hair. He can’t help it; upon looking at Evan’s expression, a painful howl of a laugh explodes out of him and he nearly cries into his hands. But Connor forces himself to take breathes and calm himself down enough to watch as Jared does exactly as Agent Amaranth and Agent Chiaroscuro instructed.

Jared robotically turns himself towards the cafeteria line, light reflecting off his suit and casting candy-wrapper blue and poison green shimmers on the walls closest to him. He awkwardly gets a tray, obviously trying not to show that all the attention on him is overwhelming. 

Jared leaves the line with nothing but a ridiculously large bottle of chocolate milk; he drops the edible prank bath bombs they instructed him to buy into it and chugs it. He looks up with a determined set to his expression.

It’s quiet in the cafeteria, so quiet they can hear him clear his throat as if he’s going to say something. Evan’s eyes flit to his and he’s pretty sure they are thinking the same thing: _ ishegonnadoit???Ishegonnadoit??ishe---? _

And then they hear it. They hear the trembling, wavering voice of Jared beginning to sing. 

_ “ _ _ We're, uhhh, we’re no strangers to love; You know the rules and so do I…” _

He looks up, grins shakily and pulls a garishly, girlishly pink kiddie microphone out of his pocket. Lifting it to his mouth, he continues; small speakers placed around the cafeteria---he must have put them there during the free period earlier---transmit his voice with a pleasant sparkly sound effect that must be from the mic.

_ “A full commitment's what I'm thinking of, _

_ You wouldn't get this from any other guy.” _

The cafeteria, previously more silent than it had ever been, has begun to murmur and Connor can hear quiet giggles and some of the jocks whistling.

_ “I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling... _

_ Gotta make you understand: _

_ Never gonna give you up, _

_ Never gonna let you down, _

_ Never gonna run around and desert you!” _

The cafeteria’s begun to rev up; a kid starts singing along, others join in, and a bunch of kids are mock-dancing. It’s gotten pretty loud by now, and Connor’s got a sense that the worst is yet to come.

_ “Never gonna make you cry, _

_ Never gonna say goodbye, _

_ Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you!” _

Jared adds a riff to that, and the cafeteria explodes.

A powerful wave of delight and pure, unadulterated triumph makes Connor tug his hair to make sure he’s not dreaming. His cheeks hurt with how hard he’s grinning and it’s such a strange sensation to feel so happy for so long. Surprised at himself, he thinks that he’s never been happier to have a possibly insane AI and to also still be alive. He’s actually _ giggling _ at this point; the cafeteria is screaming with mirth, Jared’s voice barely audible over all the others who were singing along. Jared has gotten onto the stage; he’s pacing it, moving his arms up and down in the ‘LOUDER!’ gesture.

Someone launches themselves onto a table and starts shouting the lyrics.

By the time they hit the chorus again, it's become complete chaos. Connor sees several people just filming everything and staring up at Jared in awe and amusement. Grinning wildly, he glances at Evan to find that he’s chuckling nervously, an unsure smile spread across his face. When he notices Connor looking at him and sees that he’s laughing too, Evan’s smile relaxes into something more freely amused. 

Kids have gotten onto the stage and taken places in a triangle formation behind Jared. They’re doing the little rickroll hand movement---somehow looking perfectly in sync and professional. Connor guesses they’re the theatre kids; a part of him that’s starting to feel reckless wants to grab his tap shoes and do a routine with them.

Jared quickly belts the last chorus, pockets the mic, leaps off the stage, and sprints out of the cafeteria like an insane, colorful bird. Before he disappears behind the doors he yells, “Skedaddle, skedoodle, your dicks are now noodles!”

Someone shrieks in surprise when the principal angrily bursts onto the stage like a territorial dinosaur. The theater kids do a last little jazz-hand move and drop into assorted meme poses---namely, t-posing and dabbing. The principal roars something unintelligible and the kids beat a hasty retreat and dismount the stage as quick as thieves. Some yell ‘yeet’ as they sprint away, scattering in different directions and looking smug and guiltless. The principal doesn’t seem to know who to chase after so he races towards where Jared disappeared. 

Silence settles over the whole cafeteria; everyone’s staring around like survivors of a wild event, looking both baffled and delighted. Slowly, chatter sparks, and soon everyone’s back to normal, if a little more giggly than usual.

That’s high school for you.

***

_(I wanted to add a pic of the suit, but archive kept glitching, rip)_

***

Outside in the courtyard, where there are a few picnic tables no one really uses, Connor and Evan reconvene with 3V4N after school. Lately, they've been using Connor's laptop instead of the school’s lab computers because, now that they can actually talk to 3V4N, it would be awkward to have someone walk in on them while they use the intelligent AI- now they look through the fruits of their efforts in the relatively quiet school courtyard. 

Jared has sent Agents Amaranth and Chiaroscuro the pictures and even a video of the proceedings from today. Looking through them, it seems like an apocalypse took place in the cafe. 

“So, uh… that was interesting.” Connor grimaces, holding in a laugh at the Elvis-esque pose Jared had just struck in the video.

“Was what we did ok?” Evan chews on his nails.

“Of course,”

“But, don’t you think that Jared is going to get into a lot of trouble?”

Connor doesn’t want to admit it but he says, “He gave the school some...excitement. Much needed if I may add.”

“But still...I think I should text him and see if he’s ok.”

“I won’t stop you if you want to.”

Evan texts Jared- 

_ Tree Boy _ : [ _ Hey, Jared, are ypu ok?] _

Jared replies in a jiff. 

** _Bathbombs: [I’M GOD LMAO]_ **

** _[I AM THE GOD OF THE NEW WRLD.]_ **

** _[Did u c me up thereee? I was A W E S O M E]_ **

_  
_ _ Tree Boy: [Are u ok, tho? You haven’t been susprnded or anything?] _

** _Bathbombs: [lol no, idk it ws uber weird actually.]_ **

** _[principal dood looked lik he was gonna yeet me but he sw smth on his computer an paled. maybe his porno ws boutta finish loading n play or smth idk.]_ **

** _[But whatevs lol he just gave me detention for a wek n said if i do smth like that again i'll be suspended lol yeaaaah right if i do that again I’ll usurp his fuckin thrown and become prinicpla of all u fuckin looosseerrrssss RIP to u]_ **

_ Tree Boy: [But why did you do that today?] _

A couple minutes pass before he replies with,

** _Bathbombs: [idk i was bored,,, besides it’s none of ur business I DO WAT I WANT]_ **

_ Tree Boy: [Im happy u didn’t get suspended] _

** _Bathbombs: [Ya whatever] _ **

** _[i just got a text from Courtney and a ton o f other people]_ **

** _[in other words I ain’t got time for u]_ **

** _[Shoo]_ **

Evan slowly lowers his phone, “Oh, this is bad,” he actually grabs a stress ball out of his pocket and squeezes it nervously, “Jared’s got a big head and we just made it _ bigger.” _

Connor is still running a high from laughing as much as he did during lunch so he nonchalantly says, “Ok, it can’t be _ that _ bad…”

Evan purses his mouth and silently shakes his head while he hands Connor his phone. 

Connor reads their texts and raises an unimpressed eyebrow, “God, he’s annoying.”

“But do you see the problem?”

“Sort of…”

“We’ve enabled him,” Evan crushes the stress ball in his hands and it makes a wheezing noise.

“We may have done that but it’s not like he’s going to go do something like that again without _ our _ instructions. Does he really seem like the sort of person to do something like that without a little push?”

They fall into a weird silence where Evan is plainly worried and stressed, and Connor just kind of doesn’t give a shit if Jared gets suspended or even expelled. Connor looks through the texts again for something to do, and then something occurs to him: “Hey, what do you think the principal saw on his computer?”

Evan looks up from stretching the stress ball and looks at Connor like he’d just started speaking Tawainese.

“What?”

“I just think it’s weird that Mr. Porno just made a complete 180, don’t you?”

Evan stretches the ball even more and it looks like it’s going to split in half. He suddenly lets it fall from his hands and bounce away from them as if it’s running from him.

“You don’t think 3V4N…”

They both quietly turn to look at 3V4N and its little cursor blinks in and out innocently. 

Here goes nothing. Connor clears his throat and says, “3V4N…”

**3V4N: Yes, Connor?**

“Did you enter Mr. Por---Mr. Ratcliff’s computer and do...something?”

**3V4N: Yes.**

Connor thrums his hands on the desk and chews his lip, “What did you do?”

**3V4N: 3V4N predicted that the head official of your school would likely administer punishment on The Twink. 3V4N anticipated that Connor and Evan would want to ensure that The Twink would still be accessible for more missions.**

“How did you do that though?”

**3V4N: 3V4N found sensitive documents in Mr. Ratcliffe’s very unsecured computer and with the tools at its disposal 3V4N was suitably persuasive. **

Connor nods and says, “That’s all, 3V4N.”

**3V4N: Very well.**

The computer turns off and Connor shakily takes out the USB drive. A bird twitters up above them and Connor rubs his chin, not sure what to think. “Mr. Porno was totally watching something illegal.”

“Oh, God, I don’t even want to think about it...” Evan rubs his scalp and then nervously looks around before spotting his stress ball and reaching over to grab it once again.

Connor doesn’t really know how to comfort anyone and he hasn’t had to do it in a long time. He awkwardly reaches over and lightly shoves Evan, shaking him out of his troubles with a “Hey, it’s ok. Nothing bad happened. We had a bit of fun today and Jared didn’t get expelled or anything. All he got was detention.”

“Detention,” Evan echoes morosely. 

“Listen, I’ve gotten detention loads of times before and it’s really not that bad. It’s just really, really boring. Seriously, it could be worse, dude.”

“I just feel bad because Jared isn’t the sort of person to get detention.”

Connor’s starting to get agitated for some reason. “And there’s a specific type of person who does?”

“Yeah, I mean---”

“You mean me, right?” Connor twitches, “Only freaks like me go to detention and not arrogant, big-headed assholes like Jared Kleinman!” 

“That’s not it at all. I’m sorry---”

“I thought you were all for our plan? You didn’t protest or anything!” Once Connor starts going can’t stop. He wants to, but he just can’t. _ I’m so sorry, Evan. _ “You know, it’s weird how easily Jared got up on that stage and did everything we asked. I wonder if you told him about our plans, and about 3V4N. Did you? Did you do it so that you guys could have a laugh at me? While we were having lunch and talking, were you constantly thinking about how weird I was?!”

He inhales deeply, choking a bit in his hurt and anger. 

Connor rockets out of his seat, turning away to disguise the tears piercing his eyes._ If Zoe asks, it’s weed. _Snatching up his messenger bag, he storms out of the courtyard, throwing up the finger as he speeds away because words feel like too much at this point. 

Evan, dumbstruck and stuttering, curls up in his chair and cries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no apologies >:0  
very sorry! (<-- that's an apology, dumbass.) we'll be back soon with redemption, though we're not sure how to do that... ehehehe...  
please stay quarantined and stay safe, leave comments for me to feed on, and uh... stay tuned!  
also!! if anyone wants some music... here I guess? maybe you'll find something you like!  
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1FREjx7q0UHdPGhaLn52RJ?si=EQAu0OzVS6anXMrZ7da8Og


	4. Weed Day Bonus Chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiya! today, as you might know, is 4/20/2020. this is the only Weed Day in ALL of human history with 3 20s. the gods (and michael mell and connor murphy) smile upon this auspicious day. in honor of this, have some bonus behind-the-scenes content!

** _The names Amaranth and Chiaroscuro- _ **

Z: lets toss some ideas up in the air for their fake agent names yeah? X)

M: um evan would probably like to be some kind of tree- birch or bonsai, maybe aspen. i also like alder and amaranth. Agent Cap does look good, but we're gonna need to throw in a reference to the 'language!' meme because i live for that.

**me, ranting about the tree names i think are really cool**

M: connor might go with a book title- agent little prince??? or one of the marauders: how cool would it be for him to be agent sirius?

maybe something art-related: michelangelo or vermeer. i also love the word chiaroscuro, it's so cool and it'd be an interesting name and a reference to Tale of Despereaux.

and uhhhhh,,, if we're sticking with marvel, he's agent stark.

** _Sherlock, No!-_ **

A bit into the writing, I, Child_Of_Musicals (or M) made a comment in reference to Sherlock (BBC) and Zara got the joke. The reference in question was a version of the bit of Chapter 3 where Connor begins ranting about Grenwich pips- although instead of a written-out internal monologue, it was just”_ *sherlock fandom screaming in the background* _”. For those of you who haven’t watched Sherlock- (go do it, at least you’ll have something to keep you busy for 12 hours of quarantine)- the main antagonist uses Grenwich pips as a signal to Sherlock that another of his challenges is beginning.

** _George Orwell and Good Books-_ **

Z: Also, have you read 1984? I love that book. Pissed me off at the end so bad lmao

M: yesss

Z: awesome! have u read animal farm as well?

M: ooooobviously. orwell is good shit.

Z: YES YES YES. What other books have u read? Do u have any faves?

M: ok uh percy jackson and harry potter... uh the little prince... it... the shadowhunter chronicles, i guess... i read constantly so i can't name everything i love, but those are the ones that currently come to mind

Z: Cool! I loved Hp and pjo as well! Of course The Little Prince is a masterpiece. I read a lot of fanfic nowadays but in terms of published books I love Stephen King. And some of my fave books are Ender’s Game, The Song of Achilles, The Child Finder, The Road, and Breakfast of Champions. I never got around to reading the shadow hunter chronicles tho, maybe someday :3

Z: Ok, it’s only customary to ask after the good words of hp and pjo have been spoken but which house r u in and which cabin in camp half blood would u have wanted to be in? :D

M: uh, Slytherin and Athena.

** _Plotting Out Jared’s Concert-_ **

Z: I’m kind of entertaining the idea that instead of this---Jared sings a song and brings like a really really good speaker and people start to sing with him??? I'm thinking maybe it could be Old Town Road and that when the cafeteria starts going wild with the song it has the same energy as those elementary/ middle school kids who went berserk when lil was x sang for them??? I'd find it funny if Connor and Evan's prank backfired on them and Jared ended up becoming super popular due to this.

M: Mii theme or Never Gonna Give You Up would also be good... ;0

** _Fun Facts-_ **

During the scene where Jared and Evan are texting, Jared’s typing is already pretty atrocious in the posted version. However, in the draft, it was utterly incomprehensible- the reasoning for this was the fact that we all know Jared’s one of _ those _texters, the kind that types like a high 6-year-old.

Connor’s musical sense is based off of M’s, with Classic Emo music like Panic! At The Disco, My Chemical Romance, Fall Out Boy, and Twenty-Øne Piløts; although occasionally, on good days, it tips towards quiet indie like Cavetown and chloe moriondo.

Evan listens to more ambient music, like the stress relief mixes you find on Youtube: the Animal Crossing and Undertale/Deltarune soundtracks, pleasant classical, and calming artists like biosphere and city girl. He is occasionally triggered by harsh drums or too much bass in a song, so he sticks mostly with lo-fi. 

Connor once ordered 120 USD worth of pride merch and a customizable chocolate bar when he was high. 

Evan owns 14 cacti, most of which are named after characters from musicals and children's books.

Connor secretly runs a social media platform for his art that’s racked up 300K followers. He loves to walk by the cheerleaders, who are dedicated fans of his work, and think about introducing himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright. short, irrelevant chapter, i know! we just wanted to post something to mark the day, and we're almost but not quite done with the next official chapter. as always, stay safe, stay healthy, and stay inside if you can. to those who can't, thank you so much for every way you're keeping our society running. leave a hello and tell us how you're doing, i feed on comments!


	5. Monsters Under the Bed and Gremlin AI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snooping little AIs should keep their non-existent noses out of other people's business.

Connor falls out of bed, not caring about the loud thud his bones make hitting the hardwood at 3 AM. It’s too warm under the covers, but when he takes them off it’s chilly and he feels exposed, small. Scared. He lays there, curled into a ball and trying not to shudder until a beep startles him out of his trance. 

He doesn’t get up. He glares at his computer and whispers, “3, shut it, please.”

A louder, more insistent beep. His computer is glowing from the light of the screen even though he hasn’t opened it.

**“Connor,”** A robotic, text-to-speech voice comes from the computer, and Connor startles to his feet, brandishing his swiss army knife and terrified out of his wits. 

“3? Is that you?!” Connor’s voice shoots up on the last syllable, and if that isn’t embarrassing as hell.

**“Greetings Connor, it is merely 3V4N.”**

Feeling ridiculous for freaking out and pulling his swiss army knife on his own _ computer, _ Connor plops back onto the floor and tucks his knife away. Staring up at his dark ceiling, Connor grumbles, “So you can _ talk _ now. Wow, how ‘bout that?” His voice, rising and gaining a note of hysteria, echoes through the hall. “Is there _ anything _ else you care to share, 3? Like, are you gonna go all _ Transformers _one day or were you an alien all along? Seriously, if you don’t ask me for like a cheeseburger tomorrow I’m going to be very disappointed in you,” Connor’s hands are shaking as he pulls himself off the floor and moves towards the computer, only to wince at having stubbed his toe on the bedframe. 

**“Is Connor well?” ** 3V4N asks in a flat, robotic, genderless voice that sends a small shiver up Connor’s spine. Its words mean well, but the voice it’s chosen sounds too clinical and cold. **“Based on 3V4N’s history with Connor, 3V4N identifies stress in Connor’s voice.”**

Connor grits his teeth, and lowers himself back to the floor yet again- god, it’s like a roller-coaster of standing up and sitting down- “Connor is _ fine, _3V4N,” and he glares at his computer even if it can’t see him. 

**“3V4N identifies sarcasm. That is not unusual for Connor,” ** Connor rolls his eyes at that, refusing to feel even a little bit amused. **“However, 3V4N has reason to suspect that Connor is stressed.”**

Connor feels a headache beginning to pinch just above his right eye, “Will you just leave me alone, 3?” He rolls onto his side as if to ignore 3V4N, and the flat ground punishes his body all the way. Connor sighs gratefully when 3V4N doesn’t say anything for a couple of minutes but then he hears a soft knock on his door frame. 

“Who were you talking to?” A sleepy voice floats into his room through his curtained door. 

Damn it. Stupid computer. Connor covers his face and prays for Zoe to just go away, “Nobody.”

Perhaps it’s the late hour that makes Zoe’s sense of self-preservation go out the window because she peeks into the room. Deadpan, she asks, “Why are you on the floor? I heard a crash and then you talking...” 

“I’ve finally vanquished the monster under my bed. Rejoice, for the evil is eradicated. Now, please leave me alone.” Connor doesn’t bother moving- if he moves, it’ll just confirm how odd it is for him to be on the floor. 

“You’re awfully chatty right now. It’s three in the morning.”

“Astute observation, I had no idea what time it was. Thanks, Zoe.”

There’s a couple beats of silence and Connor is sure Zoe has left, but then she quietly mumbles, “Are you ok?” In that tone of voice she uses when she doesn’t want to seem like she cares as much as she does. 

“Can’t a guy just chill on his bedroom floor?”

“At three in the morning?”

“Yeah. I can ask the same of you, though. Why are you awake right now?”

“You woke me up, idiot,” She says defensively. 

“Do you need my permission to go back to sleep? You have it, go forth and leave me here.”

“You’re being so weird,” Zoe says incredulously, “Like, not just now, but recently.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“It’s not a bad weird,” she says apologetically. “I think you and Evan are actually good for each other.”

Connor blinks rapidly. _ Evan? _ With some difficulty and a lot of pain- damn hardwood- he turns to face her. 

“Who? I don’t know an Evan,” Connor wants to wince- _ Sorry, Evan- _but then he remembers. He may as well not know an Evan, really. As usual, he’s pushed away another person he cares for. Another friend- friend? Well. Connor doesn’t even know what constitutes a friend. Isn’t that nice?

“Connor, I know you’ve been talking to Evan Hansen. It’s honestly kinda cute. You two get along well.”

Connor deliberates the merits of playing dumb and decides it would just be easier to be honest. Doesn’t mean he has to make it easy, though. “What? You got a crush on Evan?”

It’s dark but Connor can see enough to see her roll her eyes, “No, I know what you’re doing---trying to change the subject,” She sits on the floor. And it’s kind of awkward since he’s laying down and she’s sitting across from him in his dark room, but it’s also kind of nice. 

“I wasn’t trying…” Disgruntled, he then adds, “Why were you watching us anyway?”

“You do know we have lunch at the same time, right?” Zoe asks with a hint of amusement that Connor wants to find annoying but doesn’t.

“No-_ doy _, I knew that, I’m not stupid.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Zoe quips, then returns to her torturous Connor Murphy Inquisition. “Anyways, I just didn’t see you two hanging out today. What was up with that?”

Connor feels himself close off; he doesn’t want to talk about that. “Listen, are you here just trying to annoy me at 3 in the morning? Because you’re doing a very good job of it,” He actually cringes this time because his voice had a harder edge than he meant it to. Quickly, to smooth that over, he admits what he was originally planning on keeping to himself, forever, until the day he died. That is the Murphy way---keeping feelings and emotions shut away in a massive chest, triple-locked, which is kept inside an even larger bank safe, which in turn is kept at the bottom of the ocean in the back of one’s mind. 

He takes a breath, grimaces. Gathers his courage and tells his brain to shut the fuck up. He grumbles, “Ok, yeah, we got into a bit of a fight.”

Zoe sympathetically says, "Oof, I'm sorry."

"It's whatever."

“I just, I didn’t see you two hanging out today and---I don’t know. You don’t have to listen to me or anything. Just, whatever it is, you should try and make up with him,” Zoe fidgets nervously in a way that’s oddly reminiscent of Evan, and then she edges towards his curtained door and hurriedly mumbles, “I’m going to go to sleep now. Good night.”

He’s too surprised by this whole interaction to say anything, so he doesn’t get a chance to wish her a good night as well. He rolls over, by this time a little numb from the hardwood, but doesn’t get back up. He grabs the blanket off his bed, rolls up in it to remedy the constant cold and the pain of the hardwood, and drifts into a half-awake trance that could pass for a light sleep.

Little did he know the machinations of the computer on his desktop, the movements of a cunning little AI ticking away while he dreamt.

***

The last time it was this hard to go to school was when Connor had been released from rehab. 

And now his anxiety is running high because of some tree boy who won’t talk to him. Well, it’s not like Connor has even tried reaching out to him over the past painful,agonizingly long, guilt-filled days, but still. He may as well change his name to Mango and move to Canada- he’s seriously considering it- judging by how badly he wants to avoid Evan and the mess that he left them in last Friday. 

So, Connor seriously entertains the thought that he’s having a psychotic break when Evan Hansen approaches him before classes start. The poor guy looks nervous and he’s constantly scratching at that spot on his arm- a nervous tic, Connor thinks. Connor considers pivoting on his feet and fleeing in the opposite direction but he somehow stays his ground. Evan says, “Hey, um, I got the messages you sent me…”

_ What? _

Evan finally lifts his head and gives him a small nervous smile, “And they were really nice.”

_ Excuse me, what the fuck---? _

_ Oh. _

_ Oh. _

_ 3V4N, you robot gremlin bastard. _

_ Fuck. _

“Connor?”

Evan is scuffing his shoes on the floor, beginning to look a little uneasy. 

“Yeah…” Connor slowly says, “Yeah, I’m sorry about blowing up at you like that. I do that, and I’m not happy about it, but I’m working on it.”

Evan looks relieved and the sight of it makes Connor think that maybe this was for the better. Connor would never have been able to collect himself and apologize, but it was all better now. Not that he wasn’t mad as all heck. He is going to have _ words _with 3V4N very soon. 

“Yeah, uh, it’s okay. Everyone gets mad sometimes…” Connor closes his eyes, _ Oof _he doesn’t deserve Evan. “I think you had a right to be mad at what I said… sorry.”

Connor stiffens- not because of Evan.

More so because he felt _ it. _ He could _ feel _ it, the air of chipper A+ student, the aura of goody-two-shoes angel. 

It's too late to run. The click of perfect-polished Mary Janes and the bright sparkle of Alana Beck’s voice had made their way down the hall, greeting any and everyone, and finally come to a stop near his shoulder, beaming much too bright for early morning. 

“Hello, boys! Ethan, Connor, how are we doing today?” 

Connor scowls. _ Jeez, this little lady really is too happy to be human. And she got his name wrong. _

“His name is _ Evan, _ and I personally am doing just peachy.” Connor subconsciously crosses his arms in a defensive posture.

“Oh, sorry about that, Evan!”

Evan nervously smiles and blushes deeply, “It’s ok! It’s an easy name to forget...”

Alana beams and leans in conspiratorially. 

“So, what did you guys think of what Jared did the other day?”

“I don’t personally have any thoughts on that at all! Because I had _ no idea _that was going to happen! Absolutely no idea! That’s why I was so surprised you see and---”

“I thought it was idiotic,” Connor interrupts Evan’s rambles before the guy accidentally spilled the beans or something worse. 

“Yes, well, I must say I had no idea that was going to happen either. But, it was kind of---” Alana grows quieter as if she thinks someone is going to snipe her for saying, “_Fun _, wasn’t it?”

“If that’s your sort of thing.”

“I just think we should have more of those kinds of things happening periodically in school. But, we prearrange it and inform the principal and admin of course.”

Connor and Evan exchange baffled looks and incredulously ask, “_ Why? _”

“It broke the same old boring routine and everyone seemed happier after it. You know, more alive?”

“I don’t know…”

“Well, think about it. I’m going to keep asking around and see what other students think. See you around!” 

Connor blinks at Evan, and Evan blinks back. 

“A-Alana’s kinda nice. I w-worked on something with her once,” Evan mumbles.

Connor grins, “Yeah, she’s nice, but jeez! All that enthusiasm! My depressed ass goes blind when she’s within 18 feet.”

Evan blinks, and Connor realizes they haven’t ever discussed… mental issues. 

But then he smiles timidly, and Connor smiles back, and they part ways with vague plans to meet up for lunch.

***

Connor really wishes he had a bedroom door he could kick open. Instead, he settles for shouting an utterly miffed “3V4N!”

He distantly hears Zoe ask him what's wrong, and a second passes before he replies in a fake-strained voice. “Nothing! Just stubbed my toe!” For effect, he adds an “Ow!” to punctuate it.

Zoe snorts, “Stupid.” And he doesn't dignify that with a reply because all he has is murder on his mind. 

Connor pries 3V4N open and whisper-yells, “What did you _ do, _ you little turd?!”

**“Pardon?”**

“I’m not stupid; I _ made _ you. Now, tell me, what did you send Evan?”

**“Ah, I see. You are wondering about the Altercation Relief Protocol. Yes, I simply did… one moment, Connor… ** ** _this!_ ** **” **

Connor blinks in shock as 3V4N pulls up an email that Connor has no memory of sending. The subject line just says: Sorry. It was adressed to treehansen@ellisonpark.org---you didn’t have to be an idiot to know that was Evan. 

Connor curiously opens it and clicks on a presentation with a tree on it. A montage of pictures of trees interspersed with memes that said various things such as humorous interpretations of stuff like ‘I’m a jerk’, ‘ I’m sorry’, ‘I didn’t mean to act like that’. 

“_ 3V4N _…”

**“Does Connor like it? I thought Evan would.”**

“Yes, I mean, I don’t know...He talked to me again today.”

**“Just as I anticipated.”**

Connor feels unarmed by what 3V4N did, by what 3V4N said. “This is...I don’t know 3V4N. Thank you, I guess… but, honestly? I’m kind of angry with you right now.”

**“Apologies.”**

Connor has to take a step back and think about it all. He's pleased that Evan talked to him again but it also feels like he cheated. Connor didn’t _ actually _ apologize and it felt like Evan’s renewed trust in him was cheap, fake. But then he had to consider the fact that he might have _ never _apologized at all without 3V4N’s intervention. 

Connor sighs, closes his laptop, and wants to go take a long nap. 

Emotions are tiring. 

And yet he has to admit that he feels a great amount of relief. 

***

In the morning, Connor drowsily takes sip of a cold glass of orange juice and blinks past the blurriness in his eyes as he stares down at his cereal bowl. He feels super sleepy even if he felt he got one of the most restful nights of his life. Perhaps the fact that a major source of his stress was alleviated without him having to raise a finger contributed to his dreamless and rejuvenating sleep. He is not on his guard this morning and felt feels too comfortable at the breakfast table than he usually does. 

That is why when Zoe asks him, “Hey, did you talk to Evan?”

Connor hums in response instead of deflecting the question and asking something like, “Evan? Whomst? What are you talking about, Zoe?” Nope, he tragically nods his head and unknowingly sets himself up for the interrogation of the century. 

Like a dog spotting the mailman, Cynthia looks at him with great interest, “Evan? Who's that? Is that a friend, Connor?” She chews on her lip and tried to hide an excited smile. 

Connor sends Zoe a betrayed look. Zoe looks away---the traitor. He can tell she feels some modicum of guilt if he goes by the redness of her ears. Serves her right. 

Connor flatly says, “I don’t know what Zoe is talking about.”

“Oh, really?” Cynthia obviously deflates a little and looks at him with a little bit of doubt in her eyes, “You can tell us if you made a friend, Connor.” 

“Nope,” Connor pops the ‘p’ “No friends to report to space command about. Mission abort.”

“I don’t think I appreciate that tone,” Larry peaks over his newspaper to stare scoldingly at him. 

“_ hMMM, I dOn’T tHinK i aPPreCiAtE tHat tOnE,,,” _mocks Connor, knowing he's about to be in deep shit and not caring at all.

Larry scowls and stands up. 

“Young man, you will _ not _mock your father. Until you learn your manners…” Larry pauses for dramatic effect, and Connor’s heart begins to beat to the tune of the Coffin Dance song.

Larry glares down at Connor, “No art supplies or computer for a month.” 

Connor grimaces, but the punishment itself wasn’t _ that _ bad. He can get them back from Cynthia whenever he felt like it.

“And you’re going to do peer tutoring for the rest of the year. Your grades are abysmal.”

And the beat drops.

Connor throws his head back and forces a laugh, “Yeah, No. That’s not happening,” he looks at Cynthia for help and says, “Seriously? Don’t you think Larry is going a little overboard right now?” He wags a mocking finger, “Oooh you’ve been a very bad boy, Connor. We’re going to slap you with some _ education _ . I didn’t even _ do _anything.”

Larry looks like Connor as good as threw his treasured golf clubs into a volcano, “Connor James Murphy, you are _ grounded _!”

Larry and Connor stare each other down like a Western Stand-off. Connor slowly crosses his arms while a wicked plan starts brewing in his head. He yells, “Fuck you!” and storms away into his room. He would’ve loved to stay and chat (read: argue) but he had some planning to do. 

_ Larry, on God, you’re going to regret this. _

Connor opens 3V4N up.

“Buddy, I have a favor to ask you.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! Hope you all are doing well.  
Please leave a comment if you liked! :D


	6. Manicures and Gerard Way Funko Pops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys hang out and Larry gets even worse, somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey kids! we bacc! larry does use 'homo' in an insulting way this chapter, so stay safe. enjoy!

**[Conversation Started By ** ** _Chiaroscuro,_ ** ** September 15 20XX]**

_ Chiaroscuro: [Hey, Evan. It’s Connor.] _

** _Tree Boy: [Hi Connor! What’s up?]_ **

_ Chiaroscuro: [Cynthia is what’s up. She wants to meet you.] _

** _Tree Boy: [Cynthia?]_ **

_ Chiaroscuro: [My mom.] _

_ Tree Boy:  _ ** _[Oooooh ok.]_ **

** _[Can we arrange something?]_ **

_ Chiaroscuro: [Yeah] _

_ [Hey, can I ask you something?] _

_ [WAIT nvm. I changed my mind] _

** _Tree Boy: [No, no it’s ok!! Keep going?]_ **

_ Chiaroscuro: [Would you maybe want to stay over Friday night] _

** _Tree Boy: [Yes totally!!]_ **

** _[My mom says yes]_ **

_ Chiaroscuro: [ :) ] _

** _Tree Boy: [Also]_ **

** _[Tree Boy’s name has been changed to Amaranth]_ **

_ Chiaroscuro: [*clap.gif*] _

** _Amaranth: [*smileandbow.gif*]_ **

** _\---_ **

It’s Friday.

Connor hasn’t had a sleepover in so long---heck, he hardly remembers the last time he invited a friend over to just hang out. And now Evan is going to come over and they are going to do... whatever people do during sleepovers. Connor supposes they could play video games, watch movies, eat….Sleepover stuff.

Maybe Connor can convince Evan to let him paint his nails---he is rather good at it now. He thinks a light blue color would look nice on Evan’s nails. Connor even bought a couple different shades that he thought Evan might like, but he’s going to pretend he’s always had them. The names of the colors remind him of Evan- Treehouse Paradise, Soft Sunshine, Summer Skies- all that cutesy natural shit that Connor adores so much when it’s Evan talking.

Connor is packing up his things after his last class of the day and he’s positively thrumming with excitement. He’s going to hang out with Evan and he’s going to share his Larry Revenge Plot, aptly labeled Operation Siren’s Song; oh, Evan’s going to get such a kick out of what he’s going to tell him. He can’t wait. 

He’s got all his things now, and he begins the stride to his locker and then to the greenhouse area, where Evan does the watering after-school and where they had planned to meet up. He pushes open the doors of the little clear shed that calls itself a greenhouse and walks in.

It takes a moment for him to spot the other boy amongst the green foliage and flowers, but he hears the small sound of soft humming coming from the corner of the shed and Connor’s heart lifts momentarily.

“Evan, hey!”

There’s a little startled gasp. The back of Evan’s head pops up from behind a workbench bursting with flowers. He straightens and his shoulders shoot up momentarily before relaxing and turning to face Connor. 

“Hi, Connor!” Evan has little streaks of dirt on his arms, a flowery apron, and to complete the look, big rubbery gloves caked in mud cover his hands. It’s warm in the little greenhouse and the evidence of the warmth colors Evan’s cheeks a flattering shade of pink. “Want to help me water?” Evan holds out the watering can he’d been filling and Connor gladly accepts, then steps away to the first row of plants while Evan fills another can.

It’s strangely pleasant in the greenhouse. It smells of fresh earth and almost overwhelmingly of healthy flora. Connor stares transfixedly at the clear stream of water as he pours. And then he counts the petals on the marigold blooms and makes a note to come in later and draw them.

“So, Evan, about your stuff...Do you want me to take you home so you can grab your things for tonight?” Connor smacks himself mentally---he’s never offered Evan a ride anywhere and for some reason it feels weird to ask him that. Connor doesn’t want to seem pushy or creepily eager for their sleepover. God, maybe he’s probably ruined everything yet again. 

“Ah, yeah… I couldn’t find the time to pack this morning so, yeah, it’d be nice if you could do that,” Evan glances up from the watering and catches Connor’s eye; something about the light in the greenhouse compliments Evan’s earnest hazel eyes and something twists---not unpleasantly---somewhere inside Connor. Connor coughs and spills some water on the floor. He’s probably just hungry.

“Sure, that’s fine,” Connor waters the last of some daffodils, sets the can down on a shelf, and settles for perching on a table and watching Evan work. He kicks his boots out just to feel them swing and absently asks, “Can you tell me about the plants, Ev?”

This time Evan almost drops his can, his face snapping up to stare at him with a startled expression.

“Um...Are you ok? There aren’t, like, weird bugs in here... right?” Connor looks down at himself and the table he’s sitting on as he checks for spiders. 

Evan’s healthy flush deepens into an unmistakable blush and he stammers out a “N-nothing.”

Connor doesn’t exactly believe him but shrugs anyway, “Ok.”

He’s surprised when Evan looks down and quickly mumbles, “You just called me Ev. That’s all…”

And then Connor understands and, uh,  _ fuck _ .  _ Yeet me out a window.  _ Connor hops off the table and prepares to back all the way out of the greenhouse and into Argentina. “Ah! Sorry, sorry, it just slipped out... I won’t call you that again!” In his panic, Connor distantly realizes his voice has risen a couple of octaves during his apology---what the  _ hell _ is wrong with him? 

“Hey,” Cutting through his tirade of thoughts, Evan quietly says, “It’s ok. I don’t, I don’t really mind.” Evan had been staring intently down at the floor, but now he glances up at Connor- almost shyly and not without a little bit of happiness. 

Connor’s brain falls silent, and he feels a smile start to bloom (definitely without his permission). 

“Ok, Ev.” 

Evan smiles at Connor reusing the nickname and Connor’s smile morphs into a grin. “So… What’s this thing here?” He points to a bright blue flower beside him and Evan immediately begins rattling off facts about pansies.

***

_ Please leave all overcoats, canes, and top hats _

_ With the doorman _

_ From that moment, you’ll be out of place and under-dressed _

_ I’m wrecking this evening already and _

_ Loving every minute of it _

_ Ruining this banquet for the mildly inspiring end _

Music slams through the car as Connor grins- he likes this one. He starts humming along, and Evan taps him on the shoulder.

“What- what song is this? It’s kinda cool…”

Connor grimaces, “It’s, uh…” How the hell does he explain Brendon’s long-ass weird song titles? He slowly says, “There’s A Good Reason These Tables Are Numbered, Honey, You Just Haven’t Thought Of It Yet…”

Evan makes a sound that can only be described as a giggle. “Seriously?!”

“Yeah…” 

Brendon finishes up with spiking the punch, and something interesting starts playing. 

_ Stop _

_ Drop _

_ And drag me into place _

_ And lock the fire escapes _

_ I’ll break your pretty face _

_ (Yeah, yeah) _

“I don’t even know this one. Could you grab my phone and check for me, Ev?”

Evan fumbles at the aux cord hanging between the seats where it dangles Connor’s phone. 

“Um… it’s called… Choke? By, er, I Don’t Know How, But They Found Me? Sounds pretty violent…”

The lyrics, as it turns out, are also pretty violent, but it has an interesting melody to it that draws Connor in. It takes him a second to process the fact that Evan’s speaking.

“This one’s it… Give me a sec to head inside and pack up… Thanks!”

Connor only sees the outside of Evan’s house, a pretty little townhouse with a brick front. He waits in the car for Evan to grab his things, but it feels like barely a minute passes before Evan races out of his house with a small knapsack and a sleeping bag under his arm. Connor opens the trunk for him to throw his things in there and they crawl back into the car. 

Connor is not exactly sure what to do. He kind of wants to warn Evan about his family, but that might put him off. Plus, he’s not even sure if that’s  _ necessary.  _ Like, does he  _ really _ have to tell Evan  _ ‘Hey, my family and I don’t really get along sometimes’ _ or ‘ _ My parents might interrogate you, sorry about that’?  _ Given how anxious Evan generally is Connor decides against it and hopes for the best. 

Instead, he settles for saying, “Cynthia, my mom, has recently purged any and all foods with over a spoonful of sugar and junk.”

Evan looks surprised and fiddles with his fingers, “That sucks…”

“Yeah,” Connor prepares to park his car in front of the 7-11 by his house, “That’s why we’re going to get some very necessary provisions from here.”

Evan smiles at Connor and brightly says, “Okay!” Connor is about to step out of the car when Evan’s face falls as he seems to realize something, “I didn’t bring any cash, though…”

Connor waves him off, “I got you.”

Evan follows him into the store, “Really? I don’t know---”

“Dude, it’s chill. We’re only getting snacks after all,” Connor picks off each and every bag of candy that catches his fancy- marshmallows, Hershey’s dark chocolate bars, sour gummy worms, lemon taffy, “Go crazy, man.”

When Connor meets Evan again by the cash register, he notices that Ev’s only grabbed a bag of vinegar chips and a packet of chocolate cherries. Given how Connor currently cradles half of the whole store in his arms, he decides to not comment on it. Instead, he points and mutters, “Nice.”

Evan’s answering smile makes Connor’s gut do that weird thing so he turns his attention to dropping all his loot on the cash register.

“I’d like to get all this, thanks.”

The ride back is uneventful; Connor silently passes Evan the aux cord, and Evan plays some Youtube lo-fi mix that Connor actually thoroughly enjoys. It’s quiet, except for the soft beats of the stereo, but Connor doesn’t mind because the silence, for once, is a comfortable one.

They pull up to Connor’s house, and Cynthia’s already waiting impatiently on the doorsteps.  _ Oh, no... _

“Con-NOR, you have a  _ friend!” _ Cynthia squeals, and Connor is two seconds away from diving into the thornbush of wilting yellow roses next to him. _ Adios,  _ Ev.  _ It was nice knowing you.  _

“Uh, hi, Mrs… Murphy...” Evan rubs the back of his heel with the toe of a beat-up New Balance sneaker. “I’m Evan.”

“Hi Evan!” Cynthia’s smile is as bright and unrestrained as an excited kindergartener. 

“Please, call me Cynthia.” 

This is by far one of the most embarrassing moments of Connor’s sad, sad life. 

Evan stretches a shaky hand out and says, “It’s nice to meet you, Cynthia.”

Connor internally groans because Cynthia looks seconds from crying. She’s clearly immeasurably pleased for him to have found such a polite and pleasant friend. She thankfully contains herself and accepts Evan’s hand with grace. 

“Welcome to our home. Please, come inside.”

Cynthia starts her return to the realm of horrifyingly sappy mothers she came from, and Evan briefly looks to Connor. He nods back at his car and proclaims, “Let’s get your stuff-” then lowers his voice and whispers “-and the loot.”

Evan laughs behind his hand, and as they gather the things he quietly mutters, “I’m a bit nervous… In case you hadn’t noticed. Do you think your mom noticed? I hope not.”

“You’re fine,” What Connor chooses not to mention is that even if Cynthia noticed Evan’s nervousness she wouldn’t have been put off by it. Connor dumps the books and binders from his backpack into the trunk, and stuffs all the candy and chips into it instead. He’s pretty nervous too and thinks that maybe Evan would appreciate hearing it.

“Same, honestly.”

“Oh, you are?” Evan’s fiddling with his sleeping bag, and Connor can’t see his expression. 

“Yeah…”

Connor glances at Evan a second time and Evan looks a little relieved to hear it. He’s glad that he was honest because it actually made him feel a little good to do so--- to get words out that describe how he feels and for someone to understand those words.

To dispel the awkwardness that Connor is sure is there he blurts out a “Come on, I’ve gotta show you my room. A friend of ours is waiting in there.”

For a moment Evan looks unnerved. “A friend?!” 

Then, seeing Connor’s exasperated-playful expression, he relaxes somewhat and mumbles, “3V4N.”

“Who else?”

  
  


***

The instant Connor leads Evan into his room, they hear a merry little bing and an automated voice chimes at them. Connor had requested 3V4N to pick a more emotional voice that morning, and it’d followed through, now greeting them with a semi-automated but joyful  **“Welcome, Evan. I am pleased that you are here.”**

Evan looks surprised and squeaks, “Thank you, 3V4N! I’m happy to see you too…” He turns to Connor and quietly squeaks, “But how did it know I was here?”

Connor rubs his forehead. “I’ve just stopped questioning these things, to be honest. You can ask if you want, but it’ll probably just creep you out.”

Evan side-eyes the innocent-looking laptop and says, “No, if you aren’t bothered I won’t be either.”

Connor dropkicks his messenger bag across the room, then runs over and props it up better a moment later because he doesn’t want Evan to think he’s insane.

“Didn’t mean to do that…” he tacks on uselessly.

“...Really?” Evan deadpans.

Connor straightens up, “So, do you like my room?”

It’d be plain if Larry had his way, but he wouldn’t get it in this emo sanctuary. The clean-edged, minimalistic furniture had probably been white once, but right now it’s covered in gold and black sharpie doodles. Even the bed frame is topped with a rainbow blanket and pillowcase to spite the Murphy patriarch (also just because Connor legitimately likes it). The wall across from the bed is a chaos of spray-paint and sticky-notes, and the other three walls are covered in posters of rock bands, Marvel comics (no D.C. in this household, thank you), and horror games.

Connor’s just realizing how weird he is. How weird his room is. Evan’s probably going to hate it, ugh, why does he have to be so-

“Connor, your room is cool as heck…” Evan grins, walks over to the Gerard Way funko pop figure on his dresser, and pats its vinyl head. 

**“3V4N agrees. Connor has added quite the menagerie of items to his room, and my knowledge of human comfort standards tells me that it would be considered ‘fun’ and ‘energetic’.”**

Connor rubs the back of his head and kicks his bedpost---ok, he really needs to stop kicking things or else Evan is going to think he’s into casual violence or something, “Thanks, guys...”

Evan half-laughs, “My room is nothing like this.”

“Let me guess, it’s super neat? Not that that’s bad or anything.”

“It’s neat but only because there isn’t anything in there that can turn into a mess.”

Connor raises an eyebrow, “You want your room to be messy?”

Evan snorts, “No, I think I’d just like it to have character. Like yours.”

Connor is surprised by Evan’s opinion on his room. He says, “Well, if you ever invite me over I could mess up your room for you---with permission of course.”

“Depends on your definition of mess.”

Connor opens a drawer and throws a bottle of spray paint in the air, catching it with a satisfying  _ slap _ for emphasis, “This kind of mess.”

“Hah, I’ll consider it!”

Evan’s attention is suddenly drawn to Connor’s supply case of art supplies. “Woah, can I see what’s in there?”

“Go ahead.”

Evan carefully roots around Connnor’s vast collection of art supplies. Inside, there are Posca pens, acrylics and watercolors, Copics. Evan seems impressed by it all and when he opens the next drawer, surprise splashes over his features.

“Wow, you have...so much black nail polish,” He mutters with a giggle.

“They all may look the same but they’re  _ not _ !” Connor spins away from the wall and points at Evan, holding the pose like a villain out of a manga, because, uh… why not? It’s good and showy, isn’t it? “Some are navy, others are a really deep purple or red, and my favorite is an iridescent pure black. I also just really like the names…”

“Onyx Unicorn, Fatal Calm, Lincoln Park After Dark... Connor, you’re so  _ emo-”  _ A beep interrupts Evan, and both their eyes slide over to the computer.

**“I did not understand your phrasing, Evan, so I looked it up. Emo: short for emotional hardcore, slang originating in the 90s for a subgenre of punk rock with more complex arrangements and emotional topics. Modern usage pertains to both the subculture and the music style. People considered to be emo commonly listen to the aforementioned style of music, wear dark clothing and/or dark makeup, and are often introverted or quiet. 3V4N personally feels that emo subculture is very interesting, and will be doing research on it to gain further understanding. So long and goodnight.**

Evan giggles. “Wow, Connor, even your robot is emo… Wait! Here’s a color! I found a color, oh wonder of wonders!” He turns to Connor and beams. 

The aforementioned can literally feel himself softening internally, watching Evan laugh and joke. Who else gets to see this delighted, less-anxious side of Evan? _ It feels amazing to be able to bring out the good in someone…  _

_ Wait. What did Evan say? Colors? _

Oh, those would be the ones Connor bought for Evan… Crap. Capital  _ C _ Crap. 

“Uh, yeah, I do own some colors I guess...” 

Evan lifts a pastel green that had made Connor think of him and mumbles, “I like this one... it’s like a succulent! And look at this one--” He holds up a sunny yellow. “This is nice too!” 

Evan is looking at the other collection of polishes when Connor hesitantly asks, “Would you like me to do your nails for you?” When Evan looks up at him, Connor tries to casually shrug and says, “I paint my nails all the time so I think I’m pretty good at it.”

Evan looks down at his fingers and then at the nail polishes. A few seconds pass before he says, “Sure, can we do both of these? I don’t think I can choose just one.”

“Mood.” Connor plucks the colors Evan picked out of his hands and they sit on his bed, music playing in the background as Connor begins to paint Evan’s fingers. What Connor didn’t anticipate was having to actually  _ hold _ one of Evan’s hands in order to balance it as he painted his fingers. Connor hides his blush by ducking his head so his bangs fall in his face. Evan’s hands are rather small and stocky, much like the boy himself. His fingers are a little pudgy and have an interesting mix of calluses and soft spots, and Connor loves them more than he can say. 

By the time Connor finishes painting Evan’s nails with the sparkly green and pale yellow, he feels like collapsing. The action itself wasn’t that exhausting, but he’s gotten so nervous he thinks he’s gonna pass out. And he’s started realizing maybe their friendship is not that platonic after all (on his side at least), but damn if Connor’s not gonna ignore that thought as long as he can. 

Evan holds up a sparkly lime finger and waves it through the air, a look of almost childish delight on his face. “Thanks, Connor! I- I love it!”

“Glad to hear i-” Connor’s about to shoot awkward finger-guns at Evan when Cynthia’s yelling saves him from yet another social embarrassment. 

“Dinner’s ready, Connor, Evan! Come on down!”

Connor groans.  _ I’m so dead. It was nice being your friend, Evan. _

***

Dinner is far worse than he could’ve imagined. 

It’s awkward as hell, and everyone won’t stop looking between him and Evan… Connor can practically  _ hear _ the thoughts of  _ ‘How? How did Connor start talking to  _ this  _ kid? How has this nice young man not run away screaming yet?’ _

Cynthia is trying too hard to engage Evan in conversation, Larry has an intense judgy air about him, and Zoe is obviously off somewhere in La-La-Land. However, after further inspection, Connor realizes… She’s not. She’s watching Evan and his desperately sincere attempts to converse with his mom as if she  _ enjoys  _ his presence. Connor watches as Zoe smiles at another quiet, stumbled-through compliment about Cynthia’s orchids. 

Connor nearly stabs a fork through his hand. _WHAT THE FUCK?_ _No, no, Zoe, that’s going too far. That’s illegal. I don’t like it, not at all, absolutely nOT. I’ve got dibs on Ev, Zoe, you don’t get to like him--- _

_ Dibs? What? Um… ignore that. Yep, ignoring it. _

“Connor?”

Connor blinks out of his thoughts and sees that wow, everyone’s staring at him. 

“Huh?”

Larry audibly sighs and Cynthia clears her throat and lightly says, “Evan was just telling me about your drawings. I was just asking if you could show them to me some time? It’s been a while since I’ve seen any…”

Warmth rises on Connor’s cheeks and he rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess.” He doesn’t really like showing his parents his art, but Evan is giving him a hopeful look, and Connor doesn’t want to seem like some kind of rude, spoiled brat. 

Cynthia smiles. 

For some reason, Larry decides to open his ugly, stupid piehole of a mouth and vomit his opinion onto the kitchen table like the bastard he is.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea… We don’t really like encouraging Connor to draw that much because he tends to go overboard with it. I mean, look at the walls in his room--it’s all graffiti and no better than street art.”

Then he gestures at Evan, failing to notice the room’s shift in atmosphere. “And then now he’s gone and painted your nails like you’re some kind of homo. I’m sorry for his antics, son, I can’t fathom why you picked him to befriend. You’re a nice boy, I’m sure you have more friends than Connor.”

Cynthia’s face has suddenly pinched into something furious. Her chair screams as she silently stands up and collects everyone’s plate but Larry’s. Zoe is staring at Larry; her face is unreadable. Connor is glaring at his ink-stained fingers and trying to hide tears. 

And Evan… 

Connor blinks. Evan looks enraged. 

“Mister… Mr. Murphy? I don’t like your attitude! Connor’s art is--is awesome! I- I really like it, and I think you’re really mean for stopping him from doing what he so obviously enjoys doing!”

Connor stares at him. Is that really Evan, standing there looking Larry in the eyes without a trace of his usual worry or fear?

“And- I love how my nails look now, sir! I don’t- I  _ don’t  _ have any other friends, but Connor is more than good enough for me! He’s perfect!”

Evan freezes as if suddenly aware of where he is and pales slightly when it dawns on him that he has just berated the Murphy patriarch in front of everyone- but that doesn’t seem to be an issue to anyone other than Larry. Zoe looks at him in an endlessly approving way and Cynthia looks like she’s going to pull him into a hug. 

Evan sucks in a breath, looks at Cynthia, and stammers, “Um… thank you for dinner, Mrs. Murphy. It was delicious, but I think we’ll head upstairs now…” 

He starts shakily edging towards the stairs as if his manners force him to wait for permission to be dismissed. 

Cynthia’s voice is hushed as she murmurs, “Of course, sweetheart.” She looks at Connor and smiles. “Go on, Connor. Don’t keep your friend waiting.” 

Connor jerks his head in a nod and leaps out of his seat to follow Evan. Looking at his friend, Connor opens his mouth and all he can manage is a whisper. 

“...Thanks, Ev.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof. but we stan a protective best fren. stay tuned for operation siren's song!! comment if y'all feel up to it- we love getting feedback!   
(stay inside, stay protected, wear a mask!)


	7. Minecraft and Siren Songs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys play some games and get some revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE'RE BACK!! HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN?? IDK!!  
but yeah, enjoy!

Halfway up the stairs, Connor tugs on Evan’s sleeve and on an impulse he mumbles, “Wait, let’s go to the basement.” He doesn’t wait for Evan’s response as he starts climbing the stairs back down again. 

If he’s honest, Larry’s comments have left him feeling really rattled despite the post-Hansen-speaking-up-for-him-very-unexpectedly Incident that occurred. Larry’s words echo around his head non-stop along with a tight knot in his chest won’t loosen up, and Connor’s hands are trembling despite the clamped tangle he has them in.

He’d really like to unwind, and Evan isn’t looking very calm and chilled either; that’s where his plan kicks in.

Sitting in the basement is a large flat-screen TV and his various gaming consoles. Connor presses at a button, palms two Xbox controllers, and tosses one onto a bean-bag as a distinct piano-digital melody fills the room.

“Survival or Creative?” 

“Er… What?”

“Which game mode? We can play Survival or Creative.”

Evan fidgets with the joysticks, “I don’t know. I’ve never played Minecraft before.”

“You haven’t?” Connor forgets to censor the shock in his voice, and he feels bad when that makes Evan look like he’s ashamed or something.

“No,” Evan mutters, still not looking up from the controller, “I don’t have any video games at home.” He doesn’t mention it’s because even though Heidi’s offered, he’s always been too aware of their finances to ask. They barely have enough as it is for groceries and for the near-daily take-out dinners Evan orders from home because he doesn’t like to cook. He’s only ever played video games with Jared, and he  _ does  _ like them, but guilt would absolutely  _ yeet  _ him if he even thought about asking Heidi to buy him an Xbox or Playstation. But then again, here he is, in Connor’s basement— staring at an XBox, a Switch, a Wii, a Playstation, all top-of-the-line. It’s no secret that the Murphys are affluent, given the home they live in, and to encounter more evidence of the money they have embarasses Evan somewhat. He knows he shouldn’t feel this way because Heidi does her absolute best to provide for them, but he really can’t help it. 

Evan is dragged out of his thoughts at Connor’s accommodating “That’s alright. Let’s start with Creative…?” 

Connor clicks into a new save file, calls it ‘A Whole New World’ because he can’t be half-assed to think of something proper right now, and grins at Evan’s bemused blinks at the controller and block-covered screen. “I can teach you the controls?”

Evan nods somewhat stiffly, still awkward about his monetary guilt. Connor strides over to him and bends down a bit, so as to place his hands over Evan’s on the controller— only for the educational factor of it, naturally. Gotta be a good teacher.

“This one,” Connor moves Evan’s left thumb to the corresponding joystick, “is for walking.” He pushes at it lightly, and Evan, face scrunched a bit in concentration, does the same and grins at the screen as a crunching sound emanates from the speakers. 

“That one,” Connor takes the other thumb, calloused yet soft, and puts it on the other stick, “is for controlling the avatar’s head.” The screen shows blue sky, then grass and flowers, then rotates to take in all the forestry of the surrounding land. 

Connor presses at the A button twice and holds it, watching Evan’s face as green falls down and away to reveal blocky sand houses in the distance and blue far as the rendering could reveal. “This is to fly.” 

The X button opens a menu of items upon items, including some new ones Connor makes a mental note to test later. “Inventory.” Evan moves the joystick to a leaf block, and Connor presses A. It pops up in Evan’s hotbar, and Evan makes a little noise of delight.

Connor returns them to the ground, manipulating the bumpers to highlight the leaf block and then pressing the left trigger to place it. “Place,” and then, pressing the other trigger, “Destroy.” The block disappears with a leafy noise of protest. 

He moves through the same motions he’d showed to a young Zoe all those years ago, and he thinks. 

Connor’s not dumb- or heteronormative, for that matter. He knows he’s gay, has come to terms with it, has attempted to get Larry and Cynthia to do the same. He also knows marveling at the softness of his best friend’s hands and the whiff of something sweet and forestlike he always seems to catch around him isn’t very Dude-Bro-Just-Platonic-Friends-y. But it’s hard to think about that. It’s hard to think about how it’s been barely a few weeks and he’s already on a path to ruin the best- hah,  _ only- _ friendship he’s ever had. Evan could never, Evan’s straight, Evan’s into-

“Connor?” 

Connor snaps out of his whirlwind of thoughts and it’s literally like Evan comes back into focus. All of his freckles, honey blond-brown hair and ridiculously pretty hazel eyes— it’s unfair how distracting it all is. In a slow and admittedly stupid manner he mumbles, “What? Did you say something?”

Not noticing anything out of the ordinary, Evan repeats, “You paused the game and then just stared at the screen. I wasn’t sure if you were going to go do something...”

Feeling a blush race up his cheeks, Connor stammers out (by some miracle), “Oh no— I mean- oh, yeah! I was... going to go and get some chips! I just... forgot what I was going to do for a second. I’ll be right back!” Connor dashes up to his room and gets his backpack, crammed full of the snacks they bought earlier that day. He curses himself all the way there; Evan must think he’s so stupid, what the hell? Forgot he was going to go and get chips? Wack. 

So he drags the pack downstairs, and Evan’s already working on a farm, having caught onto the whole building schtick pretty quickly. Connor’s halfway through decorating the foyer for his castle when it hits him so hard he drops his controller— Human Fall Flat. As of yet the greatest indie platformer game ever made. 

“Hey, Ev, feeling like changing up the game?” 

Evan startles at the nickname again, but grins and nods anyway. “Sure, what’ve you got?”

Connor kicks his controller up off the floor and catches it— something he’s very proud of having the ability to do. Hey, sue him for thinking he can do something cool-looking.

“Alright, it’s called Human Fall Flat and it is both eternal pain and god-tier fun. Haven’t played in a bit, wonder where— here it is!” Grinning triumphantly, he pulls it up. Evan blinks mystified at the title screen once more.

-+-

Hours pass by, Evan and Connor immersed in puzzles and wack game physics. When it comes time for them to head upstairs to Connor’s room, the both of them are... not exactly tired, per say, but ready to give their eyes a break from the screen. They chatter quietly between them as they pass the quiet and dark rooms of the (mostly) slumbering Murphy household. As they near Zoe’s room, Connor finds it momentarily curious— he could have sworn her voice had been floating gently out of her room a second ago— but he waves that away and moves on. Weird sister talking to herself in her room. He can tease her about that later. 

He kicks his door open and giggles a bit, before flopping over on the bed.

“So, where do you want to sleep?”

And then they encounter a new problem.

-+-

“Evan, for the last time, I think you should take my bed. You’re my guest and I don’t want you sleeping on the floor.”

“But, that’s exactly why I should sleep on your floor! I’m your guest! And that’s  _ your  _ bed!”

They continue halfheartedly bicker, back and forth, back and forth, for a few minutes, then— _ beep _ . 

3V4N pipes up from Connor’s desk. “May I suggest you flip a coin?”

“That’s a good idea, 3.” Connor digs around his drawers for a moment until he withdraws a quarter, and holds it up. 

“Heads I get the bed, tails you do?”

Evan pretends to think about it and then shrugs. “Sure.”

Connor balances the quarter on the side of his finger and then quickly flicks it with his thumb. The silver coin revolves in the air and then spins for a moment on the floor before falling with a click onto the hardwood.  _ Tails,  _ Connor’s brain cheers. 

“Congratulations, Mr. Hansen! You’ve won a shiny— dull? Er, you’ve won a lightly used bed.” 

“Lightly used? Yeah, that makes me so much more happy about heartlessly commandeering your bed.” He smiles a bit anyway and pokes at the rainbow blanket.

They beam at each other, and 3 pipes up: “3V4N thinks that Evan and Connor should be sleeping— it is late and you must have over 8 hours to be well and fully rested.”

Connor scowls. “The only sleep I know is— Alexa! Play Sleep by MCR!”

“Here’s Sleep, by My Chemical Romance,” Alexa drones, and Evan smiles. They let it play, each quietly considering something about the room, before Evan’s brain begins twinging painfully along to the louder-than-is-appropriate-for-midnight beat. 

“Alright, Mister Emo, I think 3V4N’s right, I’m kind of tired.” Evan wavers by the bed and stares at the floor; it’s obvious what he’s thinking about. Evan points one finger at the floor and his voice raises an octave as he says, “Uhm- are you sure I should—”

Connor glares at him and picks up the coin, waving it in front of Evan’s face. “Yes, the coins said so, now _ shhhh _ ! Bed for you, Hansen!” He lightly pushes him towards the bed and smirks when Evan sits on the bed, the frame squeaking quietly. Evan blinks up at him with a strange expression, his eyes round and his cheeks a little pink. Connor feels that weird tug in his gut again and the coin slips a bit through his suddenly sweaty fingers. 

“Three cheers for tyranny, unapologetic apathy, am I right,” Evan mumbles, quoting the only concrete thing he’s been able to decipher of the lead’s singing so far.

Snapping out of that—  _ super weird, dude, control your gayness _ — moment, Connor pumps a fist in the air and crows, “Now you’re learning!” He doesn’t care how loud he’s being at the moment. He and Evan have absolutely demolished the bags of chips and candy they had bought from 7-11, and the junk and sugar coursing through his blood have certainly drained a couple years of his life away— but it’s all worth it. 

Evan rolls his eyes and grins. Their eyes lock once again and Connor’s stomach soars even harder than before. There’s something in the air that makes Connor feel a little short in breath and like it’s much too quiet. A sudden, batshit-crazy-stupidass-gay idea pops into his head:  _ Does Evan like me?  _

3v4N pipes up from his desk, “Yes, congratulations, Evan. You know 2% of Sleep, a My Chemical Romance song, published on the 2006 double-platinum alternative rock album, The Black Parade. Very well done.”

“Thanks! That’s actually super interesting info!” Evan blinks and then bemusedly asks Connor, “Wait… was that sarcasm…?”

“No, I was not utilizing sarcasm. If and when I use sarcasm, I often add an indicator to the end of my statement.”

“I see,” Evan weakly says, “That’s actually considerate of you, 3V4N.”

“Of course; I exist to bring comfort to your lives. Now that we are on that topic, may I suggest a plan that I have, as the children say, ‘cooked up’?” 

Connor shares a disbelieving look with Evan. “Um, 3, I don’t think any children say that.”

“Is that a fact?”

“Well, no…”

“Then your assertion remains incorrect. Now, if I could present?”

“Oh! Yeah, Ev, you’re gonna love this. 3, could you test it on Evan?”

“Linking to Connor’s Alexa.”

Evan blinks over at the short white cylinder on Connor’s bedside. “So, uh… what’s this supposed to—”

He’s cut off by loud, obnoxious music from the Alexa, strings and digital notes deafening Connor to the rest of the sentence.

Evan talks a bit more, but his normally soft voice is even harder to hear over Alexa, and Connor’s too doubled over with laughter to pay attention. 

“3, quit it, please,” he wheezes, and the music stops, making way for their giggles. Connor weakly thinks he hasn’t laughed this hard since he was in middle school. 

Evan is rosy-cheeked and quietly, musically laughing. “So  _ that’s _ Operation Siren’s Song!” and then, “... your dad’s gonna kill you.”

“I  _ know!” _

  
  
  


***

In the morning it’s like Christmas has come early, the same immediate jolt of excitement for the morning ahead floods Connor’s thoughts. He shoots up into a sitting position only to give a long-suffering groan— despite having slept on a relatively comfortable lilo, his back is being a grumpy bitch anyway. Morning light washes his room in bright colors shining through the curtains and a grin plays over his already-delighted face when his eyes land on a still-sleeping Evan. The previous day had been the most wondrous he’d had in years, despite Larry doing his Larry thing, and seeing Evan there confirms that it wasn’t just a wild gay dream or something. 

Connor scrolls through his art- and fandom-paradise Instagram feed, and then gets up to start his day, pleased to realize that the struggle of gathering motivation is surprisingly lessened by the comfortable presence above him. 

Moving through his room, the scent of the breakfast that Cynthia is cooking floats in sweet and warm, and get this— he actually feels a hungry anticipation for it. Breakfast is usually such a boring, quiet, strained affair, but with Evan here it’s going to be different in a good way, Larry be damned. (He still can’t believe his dad actually acted like that in front of Evan, what the fuck, dude?! It’s stinging his pride a bit worse than it was yesterday, if that’s possible.)

_ It’s fine, really. 3’s got a few… ideas.  _ He showers and dresses, the usual jeans-and-tee with a new cable-knit jumper. Palms a comb and smirks as he drags it through the curls of his hair (which he’d actually bothered to wash yesterday!) and watches the smooth expensive-conditionered strands slip through his fingers. 

_ I could really get used to this whole personal grooming lark. It’s not like I hate it… I do love looking put-together and nice sometimes, to be honest. Sometimes it’s just hard to care. (Fuck being a depressed emo gay, honestly. I never asked for this shit.) Maybe I could use the eyeliner today, put my hair up— _

His thoughts are pulled to Evan when he hears him moving under the covers. Evan’s turned to face the dresser and now Connor can see his sleeping, peaceful face. He thinks he spots some sleep-residue, but that’s not really what catches his attention, because Evan looks peaceful in sleep and somehow even  _ more _ boyish than he does when awake. Usually, it’s obvious that Evan is stressed out about something or other with the way he tightens his shoulders so they crawl up his neck and the almost-permanent furrow between his brows, but in sleep it’s all washed away. 

Connor doesn’t realize how loose his grip on his half-tied bun is until Evan blinks awake, making Connor drop the scrunchie in surprise and attempt to act like he hasn’t just been besottedly staring at his best friend.

“Nnnhwhazzat- C’nnr?” Evan blinks vaguely in the direction of the bookshelves before focusing on Connor. “Y’look nice, sweat’r’s cool.”

“Thanks… now look alive, sunshine,” Connor murmurs, far more soft and tender than he means it to sound. Damn, he’d thought he was better at suppressing his emotions than the... disappointingly sentimental gay fuck he’s acting like. Evan doesn’t seem to notice, and if he does, he just smiles and hoists himself onto his elbows regardless.

“Boys, breakfast time,” sing-songs Cynthia, and their spell of quiet solitude is broken by Zoe, poking her head in a minute after.

“Hey, gays, you decent?!”

Connor scowls in response. “Fuck off, Zo, what’d’you want?”

She smiles knowingly and bolts down the hall. “Pancakes, Connor!” comes her gleeful screech, and then, accompanied by a cacophony of thuds as she clatters down the stairs, “with real sugar and syrup!”

“The  _ hell  _ you say?!” screams Connor, and with a mirthful cackle he tugs Evan bodily out of bed and drags him, the two hand in hand, out to tackle the day.

***

God, for once, Cynthia’s made really fucking good pancakes. Maybe it’s just the fact that they have someone over, but if breakfast was like this everyday Connor would be a whole different person.

Everyone is kind of sleepy and quiet as they eat, but Evan and Connor keep sharing glances over their pancakes and giggling softly as they remember their plans.

When Larry walks in with the morning paper tucked under his arm, Connor nearly drops his fork at the pulse of delighted anticipation that shoots through him. Brightly, but slightly venomous, he chirps, “Mornin’, Dad!”

Cynthia and Zoe look at him like he’s grown a second head, but he ignores them and stretches a Cheshire grin at Larry. Larry looks equally as surprised, but it passes as he awkwardly returns Connor’s smile and clips, “Good morning, Connor, everyone.” He sits down and unfurls his newspaper; the white pages block him from view, but Connor glares holes through them as he waits. 

Connor snatches the whipped cream and sprays a ridiculous amount of foam onto his pancakes—it's a precaution for what’s about to happen. He doesn’t know how Larry will react, but Connor and Evan will very likely have to make a dash for it. Before that should happen, he’s going to scarf down as much of these damn-good pancakes as he can. 

Larry isn’t really a talkative individual, but in the morning he does typically tend to make small comments about the Sports section in the paper or of what traffic should be like. Fuckin’ typical old white dad.

To get the ball rolling a bit sooner, Connor loudly and conversationally asks, “Everyone sleep well last night? Any dreams? I had some wack dreams. In one, I was riding a beautiful rainbow unicorn into the city and I had a giant laser gun and I blasted Trump Tower into pieces. It was amazing.” 

Cynthia blinks at Connor and slowly lowers her fork. She’s obviously surprised-- why shouldn’t she be? Connor never speaks at meals, unless it’s some scathingly rude retort. Yet here he is, talking about his dreams, of all topics. Of course, Connor hadn’t dreamt that, but he’ll do whatever to get his father to open his trap-- an easy task, of course, given that Larry is a bastard who adores the sound of his own voice.

Confused, but pleased that Connor seems to be interested in something, she tells him she didn’t dream. Zoe pretends to be busy on her phone, and Evan tells them he can’t remember what he dreamt about. Larry doesn’t appear to have heard them. Connor coolly looks at the papers that hide Larry, and Cynthia squeaks, “Did you sleep well, dear?”

“Hmm?”

Cynthia looks a bit miffed. “Connor asked us a question, Larry.” When Larry raises his brows slowly, she continues, “How did you sleep?” She glances at Connor again, probably wondering if he’s ill or something. 

“Oh.” Larry lowers his paper and then stiffly says, “I did sleep well, thank you for asking, Connor.” 

Connor nods trying his darndest not to giggle at the soft, soft, music that starts to play as the man speaks. 

Larry furrows a brow and looks around, “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Connor asks, feigning concern.

Zoe asks, “Is that someone’s phone?”

Everyone pauses but the music’s already stopped along with Larry’s voice. 

Evan shrugs and innocently says, “I didn’t hear anything.” He shares a knowing look with Connor and tries to wink but kind of messes up. It looks painfully awkward, but it was by Moriarty the most adorable thing Connor has ever seen. 

Oh god, Connor wants to kiss him at that moment.

Larry hums, still looking bemused, and then mutters, “Strange.” He drops his newspaper-  _ flip, rustle  _ as it hits the table- and says, “Wait, I heard it again… Do you hear it?” By now the music has raised, just a little bit, audibleish and smug. “What is that?” Larry lifts his iPhone and inspects it, miffed. “It’s not my phone.” 

Evan and Connor share another glance. A positively evil smile is spreading honey-sweet-and-slow over Connor’s face. He spots Zoe looking at them and she looks delighted, if confused—she knows what she’s hearing. Smart girl.

Larry’s head snaps around wildly. “What on Earth is going on?” By now, no one can say they don’t hear it. The bubbly Wii music is doot-doot-doot-ing all around the kitchen as Larry continues to loudly ask questions that no one can (or is willing to) answer. 

The silverware on the table shakes with the force of the Mii Channel Theme. Larry’s confusion and the ridiculous Mii music makes too comical a sight when put together, and Connor can’t help it— he gives an amused snort at the scene. Unfortunately, Larry catches his little snort and smirk and connects the dots- _he’s stupid, sure, but he had to get it eventually, _whispers Connor’s brain. Somehow the music _intensifies _and perfectly matches Larry’s frustrated expression as he turns livid accusatory eyes on Connor, “Is this your idea of a joke, Connor? Stop this at once.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Of course you—” the music drowns out Larry’s voice like a Mii Music Theme concert in their very own kitchen but it’s obvious he’s demanding that Connor turn down the music. A vein pops in Larry’s head and his hands flap like deranged bird’s wings.

Connor starts laughing, and it’s not the first time he’s laughed in Larry’s face— but it is certainly going to be the most memorable. It hurts to smile this much in a day, oh  _ wow, _ he’s going to hug Evan for the rest of his goddamn life.

The boy in question is grinning at his lap, face tomato-crimson; it’s a sign that he’s trying to contain his laughter.  _ Beautiful. _

Cynthia simply looks confused as she blinks around for the source of the music (an Alexa and speakers, tucked away in a cabinet, but no one needs to know that). 

Zoe stares at the spectacle that their dad is making like she’s unsure what to do, but still laughs a bit. 

And the main act, Larry, starts old-man-jogging and looking around for the source of the music like a bloodhound on steroids. When he doesn’t find it, he gives up and turns to Connor. Connor is certain steam is blowing out of his ears, and unfortunately, that only makes him wheeze harder. 

Connor staggers up out of his seat, holding it for support, and passes a hand over his face to steady it. “I think—”  _ cough _ “it’s time for Ev’n and I—”  _ giggle _ “to, uh, skedaddle—!” His voice shoots up on the last word, and he dissolves into cackling again, Evan and Zoe joining in. Larry and Cynthia are blinking hard, their faces despairingly confuzzled. 

Grabbing Evan’s arm as soon as he recovers from his fit, he lifts the other boy up so they can make a swift run for it out of the house and into Connor’s car. 

“So long and  _ goodnight,  _ motherfuckers!” Connor screams at the house, screeching out of the driveway, music still faintly audible from this far.

Heart pounding and vision blurry from tears of laughter, Evan clutches at Connor’s sleeve. Larry slams open the front door and bellows unintelligibly as Connor slams the gas pedal.

“Fuck— that was fucking insane, what the fuck, hell…”

Evan gasps, “Language, Connor!” 

Connor wipes some tears from his eyes and smirks, “Yeah, yeah, old man.”

After driving with no particular direction in mind, Connor slows the car to a roll and parks it in some random street just outside of town. By now they are calm enough to naturally breathe and so Evan says, “I… think we owe 3V4N a virtual treat…”

“ _ Definitely. _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> henlo! bread, jay, are you happy yet? (thanks for being on my case btw!) 
> 
> we'll be back in [redacted], so be sure to keep a lookout!
> 
> also: jfc the amount of references to every possible fandom we've stuffed into this fic... try and find them all and leave us a comment!
> 
> sending hugs!! stay safe and quarantined!


End file.
